Story 4
by reesybaby
Summary: What if Harry had a twin? And what if she ended up entangled with one of the most dangerous wizards around? There's a full summary inside which explains much better than this. Please read and review! 28/11/13 - UPDATE IS ON THE WAY!
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer - All Characters and locations belong to JK Rowling and I am just borrowing them._

The basic summary is - It is my take on the whole 'Harry has a sibling' idea. The story follows her as she becomes inexorably entangled with Lucius Malfoy after trying to do something to help and failing.

It is about toeing the fine line between good and the more morally dubious. Indeed, we see lies and deceit, but we also see why they are told and experience the many shades of grey that there are to a person. We watch as a relationship evolves from nothing. We see great pain, not just physical, but emotional as lies are told to friends who have few secrets and reputations are torn to shreds. However, we also see happiness as kindness is found in unexpected places and those you care about do not abandon you.

This was started when I was 18 so be aware that the writing style does change later on, but bear with the story! I have tweaked it as my style has changed, but it felt like blasphemy making massive alterations to something that took four months of thought before actually being written down. Simply put, it became much more complicated than the original 'It'll just be a twenty page thing' thought.

**19/11/09 - Please note that I am currently revising some of the earlier chapters in order to update the writing style/certain plot kinks. Currently, the only one changed is Chapter 1, but look out for more changes over the next few weeks!**

As it is, it also has no title as I cannot think of anything appropriate and am also quite loathe to remove its 'code name' of 'Story 4'.

At the moment it is a WIP (currently 597 pages in Word) and I am posting this to see what anyone has to say about it, if anything! If feedback is positive I will post more. I know some things may seem uncharacteristic considering that the main character is a witch but it seemed right at the time...Also bear in mind that this is COMPLETELY AND UTTERLY AU!!

Please read and review, I'd appreciate any comments you have to offer.

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It had been three years since a girl with long, errant waves of black hair and curious green eyes had stood before the door of number twelve Grimmauld Place. Kathryn had been ushered into the kitchen where a wealth of people had been gathered. In the middle sat a boy with eyes exactly the same as her own. She had stood silent before her twin, watching as his eyes widened with shock, his mouth open agape. Unsurprisingly, he hadn't taken it well. The kitchen had been filled with angry voices for quite some time until Dumbledore had arrived to explain.

Though Harry had grudgingly accepted the reasoning behind Dumbledore's actions, he still resented that fact that her entire existence had been hidden from him. His sister, on the other hand, had enjoyed knowledge of her brother whilst she had been hidden in France.

She too bore the scar shaped like a lightning bolt upon her forehead, having been with Harry when Voldemort tried to kill them both. This mark was both a blessing and a curse. Marking them as his equals; giving them powers that had allowed them to escape him thus far, but also making them part of the terrible prophecy. They could not live while the other survived. In the end they or Voldemort would have to kill each other.

Her childhood, however, had been much nicer than Harry's and she was quite guilty for it. She'd had loving adoptive parents and plenty of friends back in France whilst Harry had endured a miserable existence in the cupboard under the stairs at the Dursleys'. Being his twin, she shared many of Harry's characteristics, including their mother's green eyes, hers seated behind angular black frames, and their father's messy hair. It was always slightly tousled, like Harry's; only it fell in long, jet-black waves down her back and sporadically changed from being relaxed and wavy one day to poker straight the next.

The summer had been a difficult one, with both siblings getting to know one another in the midst of Harry's trouble with the Ministry and the furore that surrounded her first sighting in Diagon Alley. As they returned to school, she had to suffer the same gawping stares that Harry had endured in his first year. Life did eventually settle down though as she joined the Quidditch team and through herself into the fight against Umbridge. Perhaps what astounded, and pleased, them most were her actions at the Ministry. Although she had barely known Sirius a year, she flung herself into the path of Bellatrix Lestrange's curse. Saving his life, whilst also nearly losing her own, told them all they needed to know about her character. This act also proved to be essential in the clearing of Sirius' name, for which she personally pressed the Minister.

She had also proved useful in Harry's continuous struggle against the Dursleys', turning up at number four Privet Drive just days after Harry had returned from Hogwarts. Aunt Petunia shrieked when she opened the door to a figure clad all in black despite the summer heat. At first she slammed the door in her face, obviously thinking that she was some dark witch come to get them. The second time she knocked, it was Harry who opened the door, his insides flooding with relief upon seeing his sister. The rest of that afternoon was rather painful; Uncle Vernon was livid at the idea that another Potter existed and that he would have to put up with her under his roof. He also seemed rather threatened by her presence; not surprising as she kept her wand in plain view. She had twirled it round in her fingers as she sat perched brazenly on the kitchen countertop, calmly listening to Uncle Vernon's ranting. Aunt Petunia was similarly astounded; apparently her sister had never shared the fact that she'd had twins.

It was these memories that filled her mind as she stared out at the great manor house from behind the iron bars of the fence. She was a week and a half away from starting her eighth year at Hogwarts and could not really remember why she had decided to try something so foolish. The academic process had changed somewhat since she had first arrived; students now staying for nine years as Dumbledore had judged that they needed a greater level of skill now that Voldemort had returned. It also allowed more students to be placed under the protective wing of Hogwarts. Those skills, especially those that were designed to protect her from the Dark Arts, might have to be put into use for her task tonight. Except, it wasn't really a task as such, at least not one condoned by the Order. She had told them she was going to visit friends in France for a few days.

However, instead of being in France, she was now standing behind the fence that separated the Malfoy's land from the rest of Wiltshire. She had been there since mid-afternoon, waiting for it to get dark and just watching the house and it's occupants. Draco and his mother Narcissa had left at around four o'clock, and they had not returned since. Only Lucius Malfoy was left in the house now, although that probably made it even more dangerous.

It was an imposing house, designed to intimidate visitors and all those they considered beneath them. She supposed that it worked in most instances. To own the truth, she could not help but feel impressed by the sheer scale of the building, and could not help but think that she would have a hard time passing on an opportunity to live somewhere so spectacular. It was just a shame that it's current occupants were so vile.

Wishing to use as little magic as possible she found a foothold in the weathered stone of the wall and pulled herself gingerly over the sharp iron bars that rose from it. It was a surprisingly easy feat, the Malfoys' obviously not expecting intruders who didn't use magic.

Though they were similar in looks, she wasn't as lanky as Harry and whilst in France, as well as playing Quidditch, she had gotten into some Muggle sports and had spent her summers pursuing these with her friends. They had found the absence of magic to be quite refreshing after a year of hard study. As well as this, the fact that she hadn't been half-starved by her foster parents meant that she had benefited from a lean, toned physique which had eventually become useful in her many escapades with her brother.

Once over the razor sharp points of the fence she jumped and landed on the soft earth below, quickly moving herself into the shadow of the nearby trees. She had been careful getting there and was not taking any more chances. She was clothed entirely in black; figure hugging jeans and shirt, black boots and black coat. All she needed was a black balaclava and she would blend completely with the night.

It took her another half an hour before she was actually right up against the walls of the manor; stealing her way there under the cover of trees and the helpfully landscaped gardens. Although it was nearly one in the morning, lights still flickered in several of the downstairs rooms and one on the first floor. She crept along, keeping her body flattened against the wall, her ears constantly alert for the smallest noise. The first window she came to was merely a vast, opulent ballroom and the next was the Entrance Hall. The final room on the ground floor that was still lit up was the drawing room, again empty of life. The only room left was at the back of the house on the first floor. Standing beneath the window in question, she took a deep breath to steady herself before reaching her hands up the wall to find some kind of grip. She progressed slower than she normally would have, wishing to keep as quiet as possible, and having to stop every so often as the moon slipped behind clouds. She was not about to let herself fall just because she was foolish and pressed on in darkness.

She was rewarded for her patience as it was in this room that she found any sign of life; peering through the window to find Lucius Malfoy reading in an armchair. She quickly scanned the room, which had walls filled with books, and gathered that it was a library or a study. At that moment, just as she felt a surge of triumph, she lost her footing as the edge of one of her footholds crumbled and fell to the ground. She scrabbled frantically with her foot, searching for another foothold whilst she desperately willed her arms to hold her safely. In her panic she had not noticed the noise she was making and, at the precise moment she poked her head back round the window frame, Mr Malfoy flicked his gaze to the window. She saw enough to see his eyes widen in anger before pulling her face back. There was the sound of hurried footsteps and she looked back to see the room empty.

Terror coursing through her veins, she made her way down the wall as quickly as she could, not stopping when the moon disappeared behind clouds. Jumping the final few feet to the ground, she landed with a thump and started to make a break for the fence, which was a good mile away at least. She didn't get far however, rounding the corner at the front of the house and skidding to a halt as she found herself facing a wand that was pointing straight at her throat. She could see a satisfied smile playing across his face in the moonlight.

"Well, well. Look what we have here." He said in a malicious tone, snatching her wand from her hands before she could even move to retaliate. "And I thought your brother would be the one to do this."

"Who says he won't?" She drawled sardonically, glaring defiantly back at him. "I just did it first."

"Enough," he snapped, "inside." He walked her inside the house at wand-point, admittedly not how she's planned on getting in that night. The Entrance Hall was grand and tastefully furnished but, instead of going further inside, she was quickly pushed through a hidden door beneath the stairs that took them down a flight of stone steps and into what she supposed to be the cellars. They actually reminded her of the dungeons in Hogwarts, lit by solitary torches in wrought iron brackets on the walls.

"If you mean to scare me," her voice sounded small in the dim corridor but she did her best to sound unafraid, "I suggest you try harder." He did not reply, instead pointing her into a smaller room, locking the heavy oak door behind them with a dull clunk. He lit the torches in the empty room with a flick of his wand before turning to face her.

"The coat, give it to me." His voice was cool and calm as he held out his free hand. She did as he asked as his wand was still pointing at her. He quickly rifled through the pockets and pulled out a knife, given to her by Sirius, and a compass. His face was an odd expression of disgust and curiosity; as if he couldn't stomach the thought of her stooping to Muggle methods, yet was impressed at her resourcefulness.

"How crude." He commented with a smirk, half laughing in the dim light.

"It doesn't hurt to have a back-up plan." She shot back.

"And still you have failed, isn't that interesting?" He cast them aside along with her coat and stepped towards her. Kathryn closed her eyes and prayed that he wasn't going to do what she thought he was. She was dismayed as she felt his hands sweep down her sides, searching for anything else she might have hidden. His hands stopped at her waist and he stepped back again.

"Your shirt too." He demanded curtly, holding out his hand once more.

"No." She refused defiantly, panic coursing through her veins.

"Either you give it to me," he paused menacingly, "or I will get it myself." He finished in a dangerous tone, raising his wand slightly. She stood frozen for a moment, trying to decide if fighting was worth the risk, before sighing and unbuttoning her shirt. At this point she deeply regretted her choice of underwear.

She had long dispensed with the plain underwear of her youth and moved on to more sophisticated things. Not expecting to be caught she had chosen a fitted camisole made from black silk, just because it had been the first thing her hands had reached in her drawer. It had also given her another layer of protection from the night chill. She could feel his gaze travel across her as she removed her shirt, his mouth curving for the briefest of moments into a satisfied smirk. She was under no illusions as to the reason for his smile, she knew how she looked.

Returning his attention to the task in hand, he quickly split open the hems using a severing charm and produced the neatly folded plans of his house and the county that she had hidden away between the thick cotton of the shirt. They had been security measures just in case she had been captured or had ended up lost.

"How very ingenious," he smirked, inspecting what he had found, "what a shame you shall have no need for them."

He smiled cruelly and fed the tip of the parchment into one of the torches before dropping it to the floor where she watched it curl into ashes. With another lazy flick of his wand; her hands were lifted up and fastened in chains suspended from the ceiling, which he had conjured from thin air. With one last disdainful look back at her he left, locking the door firmly behind him, and Kathryn was alone in the silence to ponder her fate. She tried in vain to disapparate but found that she could not, the room probably sealed with an anti-disapparation jinx. With no one to know where she was, she could not risk splinching herself in attempt to break it.

He returned what must have been only an hour later, although she had little idea of the time, her arms felt like she had been standing there for hours. She kept her face impassive and did not speak when he talked to her; staring over his shoulder at the harsh stone wall.

"I now find myself in quite the dilemma as to what to do with you." He said with a feigned note of concern in his voice. "I mean, I know you have information I want and, true, some of my colleagues would be perfectly happy to," he paused forebodingly, "extract it from you. It would be painful to watch but I'd do my best." He sneered, watching her face intently for any sign of panic. Her heart was thudding wildly in her chest and she hoped to anything that it wasn't showing on her face.

"And of course, you quite unwittingly forget my area of expertise." She felt the cold brush of steel against her exposed midriff and looked down to see the shining blade of a dagger pressing against her stomach. She hardly dared breathe as he walked slowly around her; the dagger tracing his route, gleaming steel against the delicate fabric. She watched, horrified, as the silk cut in places when he changed the angle of the blade. She barely dared breathe, much less move, for fear that the razor sharp steel would find her flesh.

"And the beauty of it is; there is no one to hear your screams." He smirked in glee before vanishing the blade with a lazy flick of his wand. She did not reply, instead she fixed him with a look of contempt. Her insides, however, had gone cold at the way he flippantly spoke of her impending torture. Up until now she had only met him properly once and knew him by reputation only; not that that did anything to put her at ease. Lucius Malfoy was most well known, in the circles of people committed to Voldemort's defeat, for the pleasure he derived from torturing Muggles. None had ever survived and many of the bodies had never been found. Those that had were virtually unrecognisable from the hours they had spent at his mercy.

"Of course, I could just hand you over to my master." He continued in the same thoughtful tone, obviously taking pleasure in keeping her in suspense like this. "A sibling can be such a fine bargaining chip." She shuddered at this thought, knowing that Voldemort would sooner kill her than use her as a bargaining tool.

"But, then again, why would I give away something so fine that has just walked into my grasp. Besides, I know many subtler forms of torture."

He was standing behind her now and he moved closer, placing his hands on her waist. His touch burned through the thin fabric of her camisole as he ran his hands appreciatively over her frame. She shuddered as he moved even closer, pulling her body flush against his. She could feel the whisper of his breath on her left shoulder and instinctively twisted her head away, but he had anticipated her move and, before she could move away again, his mouth had locked upon hers. She pulled away, fighting against his firm grip with all the strength she had. She only now noticed that he was far from his usual smart self. His jacket was missing and his shirt loose with the sleeves rolled up. They were both breathing fast and he had a look in his eye that told her that she would not be able to stop him whatever he did.

He waved his wand once and behind her she heard something land with a low thump on the floor, a crackling fire also sprang up in the previously empty grate. He then pointed his wand at the restraints that held her captive and they disappeared in a curl of smoke. She massaged her aching wrists as he advanced upon her once more, slowly this time, and with a predatory look on his face. The room shook slightly as he approached, betraying the terror she felt, as only extreme emotions of anger and fear could provoke such a strong magical reaction. She stood still as his arms encircled her waist and he softly kissed her neck and collarbone.

She felt sick to her stomach as he touched her, and even though she could potentially run, she found herself rooted to the spot. Apparently sensing her desire to run, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her roughly to him, keeping her back to his chest. She did her best to fight his hold as she felt a hand fumble with the waistband of her jeans. It was to no avail as she felt the cool air of the underground room against her legs. Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes as his hands curled into the holes he had made in her camisole not long before. This was followed by the sharp sound of fine material tearing. She heard his sigh of pleasure as his hands caressed her bare flesh and she longingly wished for death, for at that moment it would have been far preferable for what she knew was about to come.

She shut her eyes, as if not seeing what he was doing would in any way make it less real. Her eyes still shut tight, she felt herself being pulled across the room before she was pushed unceremoniously down onto the mattress. When she next opened her eyes, he was lying on top of her and was looking, for the first time, straight into her green eyes.

"You're afraid." He said in an almost triumphant voice; seeing and understanding the fear in them. She was afraid. She'd had a couple of boyfriends at Beauxbatons and at one at Hogwarts; this had led many people to assume that she had slept with at least one of them. In truth, she had not, and had just been the victim of malicious teenage gossip. She had never imagined it happening like this.

"Well, I might as well make it good for you." He whispered in her ear. She could almost see the smirk gracing his face. She closed her eyes once more and tried to remove herself from what was happening, but that did not stop tears trickling down from the corner of her eyes as she felt him move inside her.

She tried her best to keep a straight face as he worked; keeping her eyes fixed on the hangings above her head, her hands twisting in the sheets as he forced himself harder and harder into her. She had thought she had experienced pain before, having found herself close to death on at least one occasion, but the agony she felt here was more than physical. It was as if he was stealing her very soul. She blinked back the tears, hoping that he would not notice her weakness.

He did.

A malicious glint came into his eyes as he spotted the tears as they pricked at the corner of her eyes. Twisting his hand into her long hair so roughly that she winced, he brought his face close to hers and whispered in her ear.

"Go on, cry for me." He smirked cruelly as she did as he told her to; small rivers trickling down her cheeks.

He left not soon after; apparently satisfied, for the moment. He stood and dressed as she lay facing the wall on the other side of the room; trying her hardest to keep her eyes in focus, trying not to lose control. She watched him from the corner of her eye as he brushed the crinkles out of his jacket; acting as if he had done no more than read the paper.

He regarded the bloody sheets, vacant expression and slightly trembling body of the girl lying before him with a mixture of satisfaction and contempt. He was quite contented with the damage he had inflicted and, unbeknownst to her, was already contemplating what else he could do to.

Once he had gone, Kathryn curled herself up in the sheets and sobbed until she could cry no more. All she could think of was the feeling of him inside her; the way he had roughly used her for his own pleasure and the way his mouth had curled into a blood-chilling sneer as she had screamed in pain. She felt as if she had been split in two and nothing would stop the dull ache. Sleeping was the only escape, but even then she was never free of the excruciating memories. She tried moving but it was too painful and, when she caught sight of the blood stained sheets beneath her she nearly vomited.

In the empty silence of the small room she could hear nothing of what was going on upstairs. It appeared that neither Narcissa, nor her son, were to return for a while as she did not think he would be able to get away with this were they in the house. Food appeared on a small table twice a day, not unlike the way it did at Hogwarts. There was a small bathroom that had a toilet and washbasin but no shower so she could not properly scrub herself clean.

She remained in this state for what she assumed to be several days, judging the time of day from the meal that arrived, except that she was not always alone. He returned every so often, using her as he wanted before leaving her alone again. She spent many hours lying awake, disgusted with herself and what was happening inside of her. She found that she was now, however unconsciously it happened, enjoying what he gave her despite the fact that she knew she shouldn't. He seemed to have awoken a basic instinct within her that couldn't help but be gratified by what he gave her. She cursed herself for wanting to help, for the foolish notion that she could have managed such a clandestine feat, for even thinking that she could do such things alone.

One night he roused her from her sleep and she found what remained of her original clothes and wand being returned to her along with a new shirt.

"What about my knife?" she shocked herself by even daring to speak.

"Does it matter?"

"It was a gift."

"Just get dressed." He snapped, slamming the door behind him.

She dressed and he returned five minutes later with an ordinary black cloak that, to her surprise, he placed on her shoulders. To her even greater surprise, he set the pocket-knife down on the little table. Stuffing it into the pocket of her jeans, she followed him out without a word and was lead to a waiting carriage that, as soon as the door was closed, sped off into the night. She positioned herself tight into the corner opposite where he sat, doing her best to avoid eye contact as he shot her all manner of lascivious looks throughout the silent journey.

Despite the overwhelming tiredness that was dragging at her mind, she did not dare close her eyes for fear of what he would do. Relief coursed through her as the bright lights of London appeared on the horizon and the familiar noises of the late night traffic reached her ears.

At first she wondered why the Muggles could not see them but then remembered that it was most likely that the coach was enchanted and many of the Muggles she saw were blind drunk. They came to a halt in the middle of Piccadilly Circus and she made to get out. Without a backward glance she walked over to the fountain of Eros and stood at the edge, gazing up at the blazing lights of the advertisements that flashed above her. She wasn't really looking at anything, just fixing on a point and gathering her thoughts. She realised that she was not alone when a form appeared behind her and placed its hands on her shoulders.

"See you when you're back at school." A voice murmured in her ear. She shuddered and became rigid at his touch, wishing he would just leave. He laughed quietly at her reaction before brushing her cheek with his lips and returning to his coach. With a blink of an eye he was gone and she was finally alone. She sat on the edge of the fountain and buried her head in her hands, what had she gotten herself into?

She understood that she was now totally alone. She couldn't run to Dumbledore, or Sirius, or Harry, or anyone. It would only lead to more trouble for her and her friends. Malfoy could now use her as something to negotiate with after all; as he had already made it very clear that he would hurt her friends, and then move onto her, if she revealed what had happened to anyone. She sat there in the cool of the early morning for several minutes before deciding to return home. By the clock on the screen above her it was four in the morning. It was a two-hour walk to Grimmauld place from the heart of the city if you walked slowly enough and took the long route. She liked the city at this hour. The pubs and clubs had all closed their doors and the streets were relatively quiet.

She walked slowly, watching as the sky slowly changed colour and the sounds of the city started once more as the Tube roared to life and lights flicked on in various bakeries and shops. In the midst of all this activity however, she did not feel alive. She wandered the streets feeling hollow and bruised and not looking forward at all to re-joining her friends. How much she would have to conceal from them. How much she would be tortured by the memories of what happened and the thoughts of what was still to come.

She reached the Grimmauld place at half past six, according to the distant chimes of Big Ben. She sat on the steps for a few moments to gather her thoughts and emotions; after all, she didn't know who was going to be inside. She opened the door as quietly as possible, taking care not to wake the portrait of Sirius' mother, which remained as ever, behind its green velvet curtain. She discarded her cloak and made straight for the kitchen where she busied herself making a cup of tea and some toast. Just as she was sitting down, the sound of hurried footsteps on the stairs reached her ears and Sirius, brandishing his wand, burst into the room. Sirius was still edgy about unknown noises, but he lowered his wand and smiled when he saw Kathryn. He brushed his long black hair out of his face and sat down next to her.

"When did you get back?" he asked, waving his wand at the teapot, which poured him another cup.

"About five minutes ago." She replied, biting into her toast, hoping that he wouldn't get too inquisitive. "I got the Knight Bus." She lied, spraying crumbs over the tabletop.

"The Knight Bus, from France?" Sirius was puzzled as the Knight Bus only operated in England.

"From Portsmouth. I got a ferry back from Caen last night and then took the Knight Bus to London. We jumped around for a while, you know, I wasn't the first one on so we were jumping all around the country." She explained, hoping that the lie sounded plausible.

"You got the ferry to Portsmouth and then the Knight Bus to London?" he asked, confused. "Why didn't you just apparate?"

"I couldn't be bothered, besides, I like the long journey. It gives me time to think" She shrugged her shoulders. "And who among our enemies would think that I would use Muggle transport?"

"Good point. How did you get back here then?"

"I walked."

"You walked here, from central London!" He exclaimed in disbelief.

"Yeah. I walked back from Piccadilly Circus." She said, putting her mug in the sink.

"But that's a good two hours walk from here!" Sirius said with astonishment.

"I like the walk, and besides, I wasn't about to take any chances by arriving too close to our front door."

"You're mad." He said, finishing the rest of his tea.

"Yes, but that's why you like living with me." She stopped talking for a moment, staring down at her plate; it was almost impossible to bear lying to Sirius like this.

"What's wrong?" the blank look on her face worried him, as she was usually far more talkative when she just got back from one of her little trips. "Is there something you need to tell me?" Kathryn jolted out of her thoughts.

"What? Oh, no." She said smiling. "Just reminiscing about the fabulous French lifestyle that we severely lack in this country. You know; warm sunny days, late breakfasts; sitting in cafés all day even though you have things to do. All that sort of stuff." She lied again. "So, anything new here?" she quickly changed the subject.

"Not much actually, it's been rather quiet. Molly's frantic because term starts in two days so you're going to be asked every five minutes if you have everything you need. We're going to Diagon Alley today to get your new books and stuff." No sooner had Mrs Weasley's name been mentioned she appeared in the doorway.

"Kathryn dear, oh you're back." She rushed around the table and hugged her tightly. "Oh I'm so glad you're safe."

"Thanks Mrs Weasley." She said with as good a smile as she could muster as Molly detached herself from her shoulders and began to prepare breakfast.

"Well, the others will be down in a moment, they're all getting ready. You'd best change too dear, you're clothes will be horrible after travelling all night." With a small smile at Sirius she turned and headed up the stairs to her room.

At her request, Sirius had very kindly given her a large room on the top floor. In fact, it was more like the entire top floor. It had been converted into a large bedroom and bathroom with an area full of comfy chairs where the four of them could sit and not worry about being overheard. It was also because, unlike Harry, she had a great many more 'things', owing to the fact that she'd had kind foster parents back in France. The great stone fireplace, carved with the Black family crest, had a fire crackling merrily in the grate, giving the room a welcoming glow. Her elegant eagle owl, Athena, was asleep; head tucked under her wing, on top of her wardrobe. She was home.

She locked the door behind her and, in moments, she had collapsed onto her large four-poster bed and was muffling the sound of her sobs with a pillow. After a few minutes she composed herself and took a quick, steaming hot shower, wishing she could also wash away the memories of what had happened. Instead she let the hot water relax and soothe her. She heard distant noises from downstairs that sounded like more people arriving and she wondered if it was one of their teachers' or another member of the Order.

Once wrapped in a large, warm white towel she fed her trousers, shirt and underwear into the fire, never wanting to see them again. Digging in her wardrobe, she pulled on a pair of loose jeans, a fitted T-shirt and her black boots and ran down the stairs again once she had sorted her hair. She could smell bacon frying and could hear toast crisping under the grill. She relished these noises, standing for a moment in the hallway and just listening, after having been left in silence for so long.

Once she was sure she could face everyone, she forced a smile onto her face and stepped jauntily through the door. She was met by the scrapes of many chairs as Harry, Ron and Hermione all stood up at once to greet her.

"Leave her alone, you're breakfast's getting cold." Mrs Weasley chastised them from her position in front of the cooker.

"But Mum…" Ron complained through a mouthful of toast.

"But nothing, she's not going anywhere Ron, just eat your breakfast before it gets cold."

Once they had sat down again she could see who had arrived whilst she had been upstairs. Remus Lupin and Tonks were sat on the opposite side of the table, both were smiling at her and she took a seat between them and Sirius.

"So, how was France?" Lupin asked as Mrs Weasley placed a plate of toast, bacon and beans in front of her.

"Fine," she replied, heaping beans onto her toast, "very sunny."

"Where's your tan then, you look just the same as when you left?" Tonks said with a sly smile. "Been visiting a secret boyfriend have you." She giggled into her coffee.

"No, I haven't got a secret boyfriend, and I used sun lotion." She lied as she tucked into bacon, forcing id down despite the fact that her stomach was tying itself into unpleasant knots. She spent the rest of breakfast talking to Harry, Ron and Hermione about her little 'holiday' in France and she was glad when Mrs Weasley chivvied them out of the kitchen to go and fetch their cloaks, as she was sick of lying to them. She waited in the hallway as her cloak was already downstairs where she had left it an hour or two earlier.

"Oh, new cloak dear?" came Mrs Weasley's voice from behind her. Kathryn whirled round, trying to think of an excuse.

"This? Oh yeah. My coat blew of the washing line at my friends' house and landed in the sea. She lives right by the coast you see, on the edge of a cliff. I got it back but the salt had ruined it." She lied quickly.

"Oh, well that's a pity isn't it? It was such a nice coat." In truth Kathryn had no idea about what had happened to her coat. It had no doubt ended up in the fire at the Malfoy's house. Once they were all gathered in the hallway, Mrs Weasley with their school lists safely tucked away in her bag, they said a quick goodbye.

"Right, see you all at the Leaky Cauldron." Mrs Weasley said before disapparating. They all went one by one, Ginny too, as she had just passed her test. Just as Harry was about to go she remembered her bag and, with a quick shout to Harry, she dashed back upstairs to get it. Quickly checking she had her purse, she too disapparated and appeared a moment later in the bar of the Leaky Cauldron pub. She went out into the back yard, nodding a quick hello to Tom as she went, where Harry, Ron and Hermione were waiting for her at the entrance to Diagon Alley.

"Mum's gone to get our books and stuff; she's meeting us back here in three hours." Ron said as they all set off into the bustling street. Whilst they all disappeared into a shop to stock up on ink and parchment, Kathryn gave them some money to get her a few supplies, and she headed for a small black door on the opposite side of the street with a letter 'C' painted on it in silver. Whilst in France she had made some scrupulous investments, thanks to the tips given to her by her foster father; who spent a lot of his time trading on almost the equivalent of the Muggle stock market. She was now all the richer for it and was able to afford certain luxuries. The door she had just entered was, in fact, the entrance into the wizarding side of the well-known Muggle couturier Chanel.

There were several doors like this dotted down Diagon Alley, all of them leading into the privileged world of the wizarding worlds most famous designers. The assistants at Chanel knew her on sight and, ten minutes after entering; she emerged with several large black bags containing her new school uniform. Her name got her a large discount and she had found that the fabrics used offered considerably more comfort than those bought at Madam Malkin's.

They proceeded on to Quality Quidditch Supplies where she had an order waiting. Whilst Ron goggled at the Firebolt and Harry browsed through a shelf of broom accessories she paid for her order, which was carefully wrapped in tissue, cloth and finally packed into four thin rectangular boxes tied with red ribbon. Once finished, she added the smart red bags to the collection on her shoulder. The owner handled the order himself as she was considered a special customer, and bowed them out of the shop as they left.

They stopped at Florean Fortescue's ice-cream parlour for vanilla, chocolate chip and blackcurrant sundaes which, at the sight of Harry and Kathryn, were given to them on the house. They sat, basking in the sunlight, watching the crowds go by. Several times they saw their fellow school friends. Neville Longbottom went past with his rather stern-looking Grandmother. Their fellow Gryffindors Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan also stopped to say hello as they shopped for the return to school.

Their next stop was Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, Fred and George's shop that they had partly funded with Harry's Triwizard winnings. It was doing a roaring trade as usual; full of Hogwarts students stocking up with everything they needed to wreak mayhem at school.

"And what might we offer these illustrious customers." Fred said in an oily voice as they walked over.

"What could we have that could interest Hogwarts Prefects?" George continued in the same manner.

"Break out the good stuff you two." Kathryn said, setting her bags down on a chair. "I want the things that you can only get if you ask." Smirking mischievously, the twins beckoned them through to the back of the shop where a large cabinet with several locks took up most of one wall.

"Take a peek." Fred said, gesturing to the inside of the cabinet. "These aren't supposed to hit the shelves 'till Christmas."

They looked in and saw a whole host of fireworks and everything else you could associate with a joke shop run by the best in the business.

"What's that?" she asked; pointing to a stack of large boxes on the bottom shelf.

"That," said George, "is the best collection of fireworks you will find in Britain."

"The Firecracker Supreme. Fifty Galleons per box." Fred finished.

"I'll take it. And some of the exploding sugar mice." She said without even examining them and pulled out her moneybag.

"No, no." Fred shook his head as she reached inside for her money.

"For you, it's free." George went on. "As it is for all of the esteemed founders of the DA, and our financial backers." He referred to the large sums of money both Harry and Kathryn had contributed to the founding of the shop.

She was once again furnished with another large bag, green this time, and they were waved from the shop once Ron and Harry had stocked up as well.

Her final stop was at another of the inconspicuous black doors, this one with 'D' painted in fine silver letters across the front. She spent half an hour in this shop, taking more time to peruse what was on offer in Dior. She did not intend to buy anything and was surprised when one of the assistants approached her. She was about to brush him off with 'I'm just looking' until she realised that he did not have the look of someone getting ready to try and persuade her to buy something.

"I have your garment just over here Miss Potter." He said, pointing to the cash desk.

"Excuse me?" Kathryn was exceedingly puzzled for she had not ordered anything in advance.

"It was ordered this morning, we were going to post it to you, but, as you are here, you might as well take it."

"I'm sorry, but I haven't ordered anything." She tried to explain.

"Yes, the order was received by owl this morning; it came with a note to put on the box." He led her over to the cash desk where he produced a large black box tied with silver ribbon. A card was tucked under the ribbon and she pulled it out to read its message.

'Do not open until Christmas.' Was written neatly across in black ink, there was no name.

Leaving the shop slightly confused she popped into Christian Louboutin, which was handily situated just next door, and bought a gorgeous pair of shoes. And finally, for the sake of it, she popped back into Chanel and purchased the same black coat that Mr Malfoy had never returned to her.

She met the three of them outside Gringotts Bank, Hermione clutching a new cat bed for Crookshanks, and they walked leisurely up the street; heading for the exit back into the yard behind the Leaky Cauldron. They waved to Fred and George as they passed the shop and they soon saw Mrs Weasley, Tonks, Lupin, Ginny and Sirius standing underneath the gateway. Sirius did get some odd looks, as people still hadn't gotten used to the fact that he was innocent, having thought of him as a criminal for so long.

They all disapparated one by one, just as they had done when leaving Grimmauld Place. However, just before she disapparated, Kathryn caught sight of herself in a shop window. She looked at her reflection for a minute, it was laden down with bags full of some of the most expensive things Diagon Alley could offer, and yet she did not feel relaxed or happy. This thought nagged her even more when she returned home and, instead of enjoying lunch, she found herself lying face up on her bed; contemplating how much her life had changed.

The next thing she knew, Hermione, Ron and Harry were shaking her awake. She was curled up, fully dressed, underneath her cloak.

"What?" she said, jolting awake. "What time is it?"

"It's five o'clock; you've been asleep for nearly five hours." Hermione laughed.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" she asked, running her fingers through her hair, which was sticking out at odd angles.

"Mum told us not to wake you." Ron said gloomily. "Pity, I wanted to test the exploding mice but she won't let us. Says it'll wake up Sirius' mum." Kathryn got up and walked to the foot of her bed where she had left her bags. She began to empty the contents and arranged them neatly on her bed and then folded the bags flat and stowed them in her wardrobe. It was useful that they were all in boxes so they fitted neatly into her trunk, which was lying open beneath the windowsill. Whilst she was packing the boxes around her broom, Hermione inspected the mystery parcel from Dior.

"What's this?" she said curiously, turning over the card and reading it.

"Dunno." She shrugged. "They had it waiting for me when I got there. I've no idea who it's from." She lied, having a perfectly good idea about who had bought it for her.

"Who could even afford to send you something like this?" Harry questioned, looking at the logo embossed on the box. "Not anyone we know."

"Actually, I think we know a few that could." She shot back. "Sirius for example, but I doubt that he would do something like this, he has no reason to hide his identity."

"Open it and see." Ron said, absentmindedly flicking through the new books they had brought up.

"It says 'do not open until Christmas', Ron." She said, removing the box from Hermione's lap and stowing it carefully in her trunk. "And that's what I'm going to do." She closed her trunk and, immediately after, they heard the voice of Mrs Weasley calling them down for dinner.

The next morning they were all set to work packing their trunks so they were ready for the following day, Mrs Weasley obviously trying to pre-empt the usual morning panic. Kathryn spent most of the morning transferring everything from her wardrobe and chest-of-drawers into her magically expanded trunk. Then evening came and Mrs Weasley once again treated them to one of her fabulous dinners and, even though they were not in school anymore, Fred and George gave them a marvellous display of their own fireworks. The stars that bounced around the room had not faded by the time they all went to bed at midnight.

On the morning of the first of September they were all up at dawn, packing the final few things into their trunks and coaxing their animals back into their cages. They just caught a glimpse of Mr Weasley before he headed off to work, letting them know that Ministry cars were on their way later. Mrs Weasley fed them a breakfast of sausages, beans, bacon, toast and eggs which could have fed a small army. Before they knew it, Alastor Moody had arrived with Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Sturgis Podmore and Mundungus Fletcher; their escort to Kings Cross. Breakfast suddenly made sense when the new arrivals began to heartily tuck in.

What Kathryn found most amazing was that, not only were they on time, but they managed to do all of this without disturbing Mrs Black. The Ministry cars arrived on time and they were soon relaxed in the back of the two emerald green cars which had been magically enlarged to accommodate more than the average number of passengers.

They arrived at Kings Cross with plenty of time to spare thanks to the cars ability to squeeze through very small gaps and jump straight to the front of a queue of traffic. Moody met them on the platform with their trunks, having taken an alternate route, and they were all soon saying goodbye and promising to take care of themselves. Kathryn's insides turned to ice, however, when she saw Lucius Malfoy saying goodbye to his son not very far from them. She tried to remain calm but the way he looked at her made her want to curl up and hide back in her bedroom at Grimmauld Place. She did her best to clear her head on the long train journey, but by the look she had seen on his face, this year was by no means going to be an easy one.

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**NB** - I know she does some things in this chapter that seem silly considering that she is a witch, but I wanted to get across the idea that she was planning for an emergency where not using magic could possibly be to her benefit, considering those who could be pursuing her would not expect such things.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N - Right, here's Chapter 2. Supposedly things get back to normal....but since when does that ever happen?

**19/11/2009 - Chapter 2 revised and updated! **

As usual, please read, enjoy and leave me a review!!

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It was somewhat a relief to be back in school, within the relative safety of the castle walls. Her workload was such that she could keep her mind focused on things other than the disturbing events of the previous month. Of course, she could only keep her mind occupied to a certain extent. At night, in the quiet of her dormitory she would lie, afraid to close her eyes because she knew what she would see in her dreams. She would jolt awake in the night, staring round wildly as if she would find him lurking somewhere in the room, and she could only hope that things would get better with time.

Quidditch training began in earnest during the second week of September, with the first match scheduled between Gryffindor and Slytherin at the end of the month. Ron had seriously improved in his goalkeeping duties since fifth year and was now just as good as Oliver Wood had been. Harry was flawless as ever as their seeker; who could fail to be so when they rode a Firebolt? Ginny had switched to being a chaser and had as much skill as any of her brothers, maybe even more when you took her cunning into account.

Kathryn, as well as being a chaser, was also the team captain and she had led them to victory three years running. She had also, on occasion, doubled up as seeker if Harry was injured. This talent had saved them some embarrassing losses when Harry had been temporarily banned in fifth year. It was also helpful that they had not one, but two Firebolt's on their team which more than made up for the Slytherins seven Nimbus Two Thousand-and-One's.

On the Friday before the match however, the unthinkable happened. With the pitch in such high demand, the rival teams wanting to do everything they could to ensure victory, the Slytherin and Gryffindor teams had been forced to do their last minute training together. So as not to give away their strategy the Gryffindors practiced basic manoeuvres, Harry and Kathryn doing several laps of the pitch at break-neck speed just to put the Slytherins off their game by knowing they were up against two of the fastest racing brooms available. Kathryn in particular loved pushing her broom to the limits of what it would do, and was known for performing some gravity-defying acrobatics on the pitch.

Acrobatics, however, was not what this session was for. Whilst directing her team, who were trying to get shots past Ron, Kathryn was oblivious to what the Slytherins were doing. She didn't feel any particular need to observe their practice, as she had come to realise that in most matches their main tactic was to play dirty. With her back to the Slytherin team, she held her arm out and pointed out various positions to her team mates. Behind her there was a dull whoosh of a broom, and before she knew what had happened, Malfoy sped past her in a green blur, and grabbed her outstretched arm. If felt as if her arm was being wrenched out of it's socket as Draco went as fast as his broom could go, yanking her along after him all the while.

Harry, the only person seeing this unprovoked attack, sped to her aid only to catch her broom as it slipped from her grasp. He was powerless to help and could only watch as Malfoy smiled cruelly back at his sister before letting go of her hand and flying back to his team outside the pitch. Kathryn, however, did not have the luxury of being able to stop her flight, slamming into one of the wooden towers that rose throughout the stands with a sickening crunch. She did not reappear.

Hermione's piercing scream ripped through the silence of the stadium. The rest of the team landed on the stand nearest the tower and rushed up the stairs to find her.

Harry was the first to get there, sprinting up the stairs two at a time until he came to the hole she had left in the wooden wall. She was lying sprawled on a stairway, unconscious and with her right leg bent at an odd, unnatural angle. There were splinters of wood in her hands and a small trickle of blood ran from a cut in her cheek.

"Get Hagrid!" Harry yelled as he and Ron carefully moved her onto the landing where Harry sat with her head on his knees. Ginny disappeared, running as fast as she could to Hagrid's hut. Hagrid's huge footsteps could be heard as soon as he began to climb the tower.

"Out o' the way! Out o' the way!" He yelled as he pushed his way through the rest of the team. "It's alright Harry, I've got her." He reassured Harry as he carefully lifted her into his arms. "Now, one of ye go tell Madam Pomfrey I'm bringing her up and the rest of ye go fetch Professor McGonagall." He said gruffly as he awkwardly made it out of the tower as carefully as he could.

"I'll go tell Madam Pomfrey!" Ron shouted, mounting his broom as soon as they got out into the grounds. He shot off in that direction whilst the rest of the team cried that they would fetch Professor McGonagall and flew off in the direction of her office. Harry and Hermione ran after Hagrid, taking three steps to every one of his, as he carried Kathryn up to the hospital wing. He pushed his way through the students milling around in the corridors, most of them staring goggle-eyed as they passed.

By the time they arrived at the hospital wing, the rest of the team were already there, gathered at the door to the hospital wing along with Professor McGonagall and Ron. McGonagall's face was full of concern, yet pink with rage at the same time. Harry could only begin to imagine the heated discussion she would be having with Snape that evening. Laying her down carefully on one of the beds, Hagrid stepped back and allowed Madam Pomfrey to move in and tend her patient.

"Broken leg," Madam Pomfrey murmured to herself, feeling Kathryn's joints and bones for any other breakages or fractures, "sprained shoulder and arm, concussion. She's lucky her shoulder isn't dislocated."

"Will she be alright?" Harry asked in a strained voice.

"Yeah. Will she be OK for the match tomorrow?" one of the beaters asked. For this he received a harsh look from both Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey.

"She most certainly will not." Madam Pomfrey said sternly, her nostrils flaring. "She could have died. It's a miracle that she doesn't have any spinal damage!"

"Sorry." He said in a sheepish voice, staring down at his shoes in embarrassment.

"Well, I think that we should give Madam Pomfrey some privacy, don't you. Go on, back to the common room." Professor McGonagall decided that was enough and shooed them out of the room so they could have more privacy.

Madam Pomfrey did not look up from her patient, dropping a small amount of blue liquid into Kathryn's mouth. Slowly, her eyelids fluttered open. She panicked at first, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her eyes moving wildly, trying to figure out where she was.

Once she had been calmed down, Madam Pomfrey turned her attention to her leg, which was still stuck at an odd angle. Kathryn's face twisted in pain as Madam Pomfrey pointed her wand at the offending bones and they slowly repaired themselves. The white screens were then pulled round and Hermione helped her change into a pair of pyjamas. Once they were removed again, Kathryn was propped up on several pillows with a weak smile on her face. Madam Pomfrey had now turned her attention to her arm and was rubbing copious amounts of a purple salve into it, paying no attention to Kathryn's winces and gasps of pain. She then spent five minutes binding her entire shoulder and arm in a supportive bandage.

"Keep it still." She ordered sternly before returning to her office. The three of them pulled over chairs and made to sit down but Professor McGonagall would have none of that.

"Out. She needs rest." And so they left, promising to meet her in the Entrance Hall the next day. And so, not for the first time, Kathryn spent a night in the hospital wing. She lay awake for several hours, unable to get comfortable with the stabbing pain that shot through her arm and leg each time she moved.

At two o'clock the next afternoon, after a thorough check up from Madam Pomfrey, she was allowed to leave the hospital wing to go and watch the match. It was starting later than usual due to the repairs that had to be done to the stadium after her accident, but the castle was already empty. Harry, Ron and Hermione were long gone, she had told them not to wait if she hadn't been there to meet them, so she walked as fast as she could up to her dormitory. Although it was technically healed, her leg still ached when she put pressure on it, making the walk up to the common room more than a little painful. She had just enough time to change before the match started and, pulling on one of the items she had ordered the items she had ordered from Quality Quidditch Supplies just as a precaution. Covering this with a black cloak, she gritted her teeth and began the walk back down through the castle.

She made it to the pitch just in time, although she ended up standing in the same tower that she had collided with the previous night, unable to find somewhere to sit. The dull ache in her leg was now a stabbing pain, and it was taking all her energy just to stay on her feet. Wincing from the pain, she began to descend the stairs; heading for the team changing rooms where she would have some kind of view.

She had only gone down one flight when she heard footsteps getting nearer. Moments later, the person rounded the corner and her blood ran cold. She was face to face with Lucius Malfoy. He was the last person she wanted to meet, especially on her own. She had been telling herself for the past month that nothing happened, even though she could hardly forget what he had done to her.

"Well, well." He said in a maliciously surprised tone. "What do we have here?"

"No seats." She said shortly and made to get past him. Unwilling to let her escape so easily, he held out his arm and hooked it round her waist, stopping her from getting past.

"Come sit in the box, I'm sure the teachers won't mind. And you'll get a fantastic view." He said, inclining his head upwards. Realising she had little choice in the matter she let him pass and then followed him upwards towards the teachers' box, grimacing in both pain and fear as she went.

He was right about the view. This gave her a complete overlook of the pitch, only bested by actually being on her broom, where she could watch her team's performance. There were few teachers in this box and Mr Malfoy took the front row, which was unoccupied. She noticed that she did get odd looks from some of the box's occupants, but they didn't pay much attention.

"So, why aren't you playing? I thought you were Gryffindor captain?" he asked as the teams sped out onto the pitch and began weaving in and out of the stands; being cheered along by the rest of the school. She noticed the look of mixed curiosity and disgust Malfoy gave her as he sped past their box on his broom.

"Injury." She stated simply, showing him her arm.

"Pity."

"Actually, it was your son." She shot back, whipping around to look him in the eye. "He nearly pulled my arm clean out of its socket." She winced as she turned to face him, the quick movement pulling at her arm.

There was not much conversation as the match began, Kathryn carefully watching her team as they got the lead and keeping her eyes firmly away from the man next to her. She tried to ignore the presence of his hand on her leg as the Slytherins started to pull back and eventually took the lead back from Gryffindor, wanting nothing better than to push him right over the edge of the box.

Malfoy, taking advantage of their reserve chaser; a fourth year called Chris, had Goyle aim a Bludger straight for him. There was a collective gasp as he fell to the ground, knocked out from the force of the blow, accompanied by jeering and laughing from the Slytherin end of the stands.

"Not very sportsmanlike." She commented caustically, shooting a disdainful look to the man next to her. Mr Malfoy, however, smiled; apparently proud of his son for getting the opposition injured. Such a callous attitude was more than she could take. Standing up sharply and leaning over the edge of the box, Kathryn began yelling obscenities at Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherin team.

"You cheating scum!" She yelled as Malfoy zoomed past, fully aware that his Father was sitting right behind her. "They're going to be scraping you off the pitch by the time I'm done!" She raised her wand as Harry called a timeout.

"Accio Firebolt!" She cried whilst their unconscious chaser was carried off the pitch, and, within a minute, her broom was in her hand.

"I'll show you some Quidditch." She murmured fiercely, mounting her broom and tearing off her sling even though her arm was screaming in pain. She tossed her cloak aside, revealing what she had bought that day in Diagon Alley.

When at Beauxbatons she'd had a bad experience when a Bludger hit her full on in the chest; breaking her collarbone, sternum and several ribs in the process. To prevent this happening again she had pieces of custom 'armour' made. Constructed out of dragon hide crafted into a corset-like frame it protected her body whilst also intimidating the other team. This particular one was jet-black to match her hair; a golden lion winding its way round from back to front.

"Hill is unable to return to the game. Will Gryffindor have to forfeit?" the voice of Dean Thomas, the new commentator, rang out through the stadium. "No, wait. The Gryffindor captain is coming into the game, despite injury." Kathryn kicked off hard and her broom carried her over to the rest of the team who were hovering in the air, waiting for her instruction.

"Ok. Let's show them how a proper team plays Quidditch." She growled; a steely glint in her eye. "Ron don't let anything past, we can't afford for their lead to get bigger. Ginny, stay tight to the edge of the pitch and then pass back to Emma or me. Harry, keep above the game and away from Crabbe and Goyle. If they come near let me handle it. And you two," she turned to their beaters, "keep the Bludgers away from us, especially me; aim for Crabbe, Goyle or Malfoy. Hell, aim for anything Slytherin that moves." They all nodded and she signalled to Madam Hooch that they were ready to resume play.

She winced in pain as the game began, her arm not taking kindly to this activity. She shrugged it off, using the pain to focus her mind. She easily outstripped the Slytherin players and soon she, Ginny and Emma had put several goals through their hoops and the lead was back in their possession. She was also right about Crabbe and Goyle going for Harry, it was an obvious-enough ploy now that she was back in the game. She did as she promised and dealt with them, flying straight towards them both at top speed; playing chicken extremely well. She was about five metres away from them when they pulled their brooms up and sped in the other direction. Instead of slowing and turning she headed straight for the tower stand where she had been sitting, spiralling up it and diving back down into the game.

"Gryffindor Captain Kathryn Potter pulls off the finest game of chicken we have ever seen!" Dean Thomas' voice rang out through the crowd. The rest of the game nearly froze when Harry shot towards the ground and Kathryn saw the tiny speck of gold he was chasing.

"The Golden Snitch has been sighted!" Dean Thomas cried out across the stadium. Malfoy immediately followed suit, tailing Harry in the hope of catching the Snitch himself. It was a dangerously close race and Kathryn also dived, her arm screaming in pain by now. She planned the angle precisely and, for the split second he looked up, Malfoy saw her heading straight for him. He shrieked in panic and pulled up, the sharp movement causing his broom to spiral out of control and crash into the pitch, leaving Harry clear to catch the Snitch. Sure enough, five seconds later, he had wheeled around and was flying next to her; the golden Snitch firmly in his grasp.

"Potter catches the Golden Snitch!" Dean shouted. "Gryffindor win! Gryffindor win!"

Harry and Kathryn took several victory laps around the pitch, weaving in and out of the towers as cheers of 'GO GO GRYFFINDOR!' echoed around the stadium. Although full of joy from their win, Kathryn could feel her arm weaken as she flew high above the stadium, her grip faltered and she wobbled precariously in mid-air. Harry and Ron, spotting this, flew straight to her and supported her as they flew back to the ground.

The second their feet touched the ground, they were mobbed by hoards of cheering Gryffindors; lifting them up onto their shoulders. From her vantage point, Kathryn could see the Slytherin team sulking as Malfoy, their new captain, yelled at them for not getting rid of her. She laughed out loud as the sight of Malfoy, his face and hair streaked with mud from his landing. From what she could see, most of the other Gryffindor students found this exceedingly amusing too.

Looking up, she saw Lucius Malfoy looking down at her from the stands. Smiling defiantly up at him, she swept her arm out and lowered her head in a mocking bow. He stood, holding her cloak, and fixed her with a look of pure ice before disappearing.

Whilst the rest of the team made their way back up to the castle with the rest of the school, Kathryn lagged behind, not wanting to leave a nice cloak behind. She backtracked to the pitch, which was now deserted. Her arm and leg were both hurting from the exertion so she moved slowly as she climbed up the tower and back to where she had been sitting, hoping against hope that he had just left her cloak behind. When she reached the top, she found the stand empty, but her cloak was nowhere to be seen. Swearing under her breath, she perched herself on the edge of the box to give her leg a rest and looked down at the pitch. The grass was rich and verdant in the afternoon light, the banners belonging to each of the four houses rippling softly in the breeze.

After a few minutes spent in the calm solitude of the empty stadium, she was about to stand and head back to the castle when she heard sharp footsteps on the wood behind her. Taking a deep breath and preparing to face him, she was stopped in her tracks as a vice-like grip encircled her aching arm and twisted it up behind her back. Crying out in pain, she was frozen to the spot as he moved ever closer. She tried to keep her breathing steady as another hand snaked around her waist so she was pressed tightly against his chest.

"Good game." Lucius Malfoy's smooth voice whispered in her ear.

"Always happy to please." She replied sarcastically, gazing over the edge of the box and wondering if she could possibly survive a fall from this height. Probably not.

"Of course, I don't like the fact that you won."

"Good brooms don't make good players." She shot back at him. He didn't reply, instead he nestled his head into the hollow of her neck and began to kiss it softly. Although she felt herself melt a little inside, she tried to pull away from his grasp. In response to this he tightened his grip on her arm; yanking it a little higher up her back, so much so that she cried out in pain for a second time, the anguished sound ripping through the silence.

"Oh no." He scolded her, tutting in disapproval, "We don't need any of that." She remained still as he pulled her closer, inhaling the scent of her hair as he did so. Her heart thundered inside her chest, his lips coming to rest on the pulsing vein in her neck. He slowly loosened his grip on her arm and slid his other hand round her waist. She felt his lips pull back in a small smile before turning his attention to the other side of her face and simultaneously sliding his hand under the soft cotton material of her top. Her heart was racing now, not from fear, but from excitement as his hands softly caressed her skin.

His grip did not loosen as one hand dipped below the waistband of her jeans and she heard his chuckle as she writhed against his grasp, only serving to make her torment worse.

Part of her wished that he would just hit her and be done, instead of tormenting her like this. She'd had her fair share of pain; she understood that feeling, she knew how to cope with it. This pain, however, was worse than any she had ever encountered before. This pain was eating away at her heart and mind and she could do nothing to forestall its assault. She yearned for him to cause pain in a way she recognised. She had coped when he'd hurt her before and rough, cruel hands had hurt more than this tender caress.

He held her there until she shuddered and went limp in his arms, tears coursing down her cheeks as he laughed at the amusement. She thought she would die with shame as he wrapped her cloak gently around her shoulders before taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilting her head up to look at him. She resisted the temptation to spit in his face, just thankful that he was finished.

"Good girl." He said in his most demeaning tone before turning on his heel and calmly walking away. Kathryn sat, silent tears rolling down her cheeks, until she was sure that he was gone. Only then did she start the walk back up to the castle, rubbing the signs of distress off her cheeks. She ambled slowly through the cool afternoon air, allowing it to calm her down and hoping that it would make her cheeks flushed enough to hide the fact that she had been crying.

It was five o'clock when she got back to the castle, having been gone a lot longer than she had originally thought. The Entrance Hall was almost deserted, with a few people lolling about on the stairs, still discussing the match. Several of them congratulated her as she passed them. The Slytherins she passed merely glared and cracked their knuckles, giving her more than enough reason to duck behind a tapestry and through a secret passage that led right up to their common room.

She was assaulted by a huge noise as soon as the portrait of the Fat Lady swung forward. Arms reached forward and pulled her into the middle of the room; slapping her on the back and pressing drinks into her hands. Several pictures of the match, taken of course by Colin Creevey, had been blown up and hung on the walls; the most prominent of which was one of her speeding towards Malfoy as he and Harry raced for the Snitch.

"It seems you're the hero of the hour." Harry said; grabbing a fresh butterbeer from the several she had been given. "Where did you go anyway? I thought you were just going for your cloak."

"I went for a walk, you know; to let my arm loosen up a bit. The match really pushed it." She lied, flopping down into a conveniently empty chair.

"Yeah, that was pretty impressive flying, considering you're injured. I'm surprised Madam Pomfrey hasn't frog-marched you up to the hospital wing for another night!" He laughed as Hermione and Ron pushed their way through the crowd.

"Is your arm alright?" Hermione fussed immediately, looking at her as if she was about to keel over. "You know you really shouldn't have flown."

"Come off it Hermione, she was brilliant!" Ron said, taking a swig of butterbeer.

"Well, yes. But she could have hurt herself even more Ron!" Hermione continued, making Kathryn smile at how thoughtful her friend was being.

"Hermione, I'm fine really. The stuff Madam Pomfrey put on has worked really well." Kathryn reassured her, suppressing the urge to flinch as more stabbing pain shot through her arm.

"Well, it was some amazing flying." Hermione admitted with a smile. "They way you flew at Crabbe and Goyle was the best thing, they were white with shock!" She laughed.

"I personally like to think that they wet themselves." Harry shrugged, clinking bottles with Ron.

"Anyway, what were you doing sitting next to Lucius Malfoy up in the teachers' box?" Ron asked pointedly, keeping his voice hushed.

"Yeah." Harry said in the same hushed tone. "Why would you even consider going near him?"

"There were no seats left. He ran into me in the stairway and invited me to sit in the box with him." She explained quickly, knowing that it wasn't really a lie. "Don't look at me like that!" they had all fixed her with a stern look. "It was the sensible thing to do; I couldn't stand for long, not with my leg."

"That doesn't matter, he's still dangerous." Hermione chastised her. "I mean, what would Sirius say?"

"I know he's dangerous Hermione, but he's still a Governor." Kathryn replied in an exasperated tone. "I'm a prefect; it would have been rude to refuse." She rationalised. Both she and Harry had been made Gryffindor prefects in their sixth year, even though Hermione and Ron were already the Gryffindor prefects. "Aren't we supposed to represent the school? Aren't we supposed to impress the Governors as well as visitors?" She didn't get to elaborate any further however, as the common room was beginning to empty as people went down to dinner. Ron, being almost ruled by his stomach, was quick to dismiss Hermione's fears and persuade them to go down for dinner. They obliged, laughing as they went; Kathryn hoping that they would not pester her with further questions

She was surprised as a hoard of Gryffindors joined them as they left, escorting her through the corridors to dinner. Word of Malfoy's attack on her had obviously spread and the Gryffindors were now taking measures against further assaults. Kathryn was even more stunned when, just as they came to the entrance to the Great Hall; they lifted her onto their shoulders for a second time and carried her triumphantly past the Slytherin table.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N - Right, Chapter 3. Another meeting, although substantially more tame than the last, but one which shows a confusing side to this implacable man.

**19/11/2009 - Chapter updated and revised!**

As usual everything belongs to J.K. Rowling. Please read, enjoy and review!!

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After the drama of that first Quidditch match, and her humiliating encounter, it was again a relief to be able to bury herself in work. Of course, where she had before entertained the hope that he would not dare do anything on school grounds, she now knew that was not to be so. She went about her lessons with a new weight upon her shoulders, the question of when he was going to show up next constantly dragging at her mind.

On a Wednesday evening a few weeks later in mid-October, Kathryn was to be found in the greenhouses working late on her herbology homework. It was eight o'clock and she was just finishing her work in greenhouse eight, a lean-to greenhouse up against the castle wall. As she replaced several large terracotta pots on the shelves against the back wall, there was a distant rumble. She put it down to thunder, as it had been raining heavily all day, and continued to stack the pots. She didn't remember a thing after that.

According to what Harry, Hermione and Ron told her on Friday evening; the rumble she heard had not been thunder, it had been the castle. A badly aimed stunning spell had hit the other side of the wall where she had been working and, seconds later, it collapsed. The third years had apparently been a little too zealous in their wish to practise the stunning spells which they had been taught in the last DA meeting and had taken to stunning each other in the corridors. Unfortunately for Kathryn, she had been directly underneath and wasn't discovered until teachers had been found and the wreckage cleared.

The damage had been bad too, which you would expect after what must have been nearly a ton of castle fell on top of you. She had been lucky though; most of her upper body had been shielded from the rubble thanks to the wooden beams that fell from the walls first. They had knocked her out, but they had also created a kind of defensive 'grid' over her head and torso. Her left arm, not having very much luck so far this year, was broken in several places and her right wrist fractured. Her legs had also not fared too well. Both had been broken in several places, her right leg was so badly crushed that Madam Pomfrey had sent for a Healer from St Mungo's to help her.

Adding all those injuries to the fact that she was also bleeding internally meant that Madam Pomfrey and the Healer had worked against the clock. Harry, Ron and Hermione had spent a sleepless night by the fire in the common room, waiting for news from the hospital wing. They had no doubt of the school nurse's prowess, as she had always healed whatever ailment that was sent their way, but it was nevertheless a harrowing night. Madam Pomfrey and the Healer had worked through the night, patching up the many fractures and breakages and working furiously to stop the internal bleeding.

She didn't wake up until Friday afternoon, Madam Pomfrey preferring to keep her asleep until the majority of her injuries had healed well enough to endure movement. When she did finally open her eyes, she found a small mountain of chocolates and sweets piled on the table at the end of her bed, as well as several anxious faces looking down at her. She spent Friday night in the hospital wing too, still too fragile to be moved; the copious amount of Skele-Gro used still doing it's work.

She woke late on Saturday morning feeling much better, but still not completely fit. Her whole body seemed to ache, but she gingerly wiggled her fingers and toes and they seemed to be working alright. After a few more minutes spent gently stretching, just to make sure everything was in working order, she heard the faint noise of footsteps and voices approaching the hospital wing. Moments later, the doors opened and an unfamiliar group of people were led in with Dumbledore at the head. Lying very still and very quiet, she surveyed the group. They seemed to be an even mix of men and women, maybe slightly more men, and amongst them was none other than Lucius Malfoy. From his presence, she could draw no other conclusion other than that these people were the Hogwarts Governors. Lying quiet and still, she listened as they walked through the long room, hoping against hope that they wouldn't come over to speak to her.

"Yes, we've had no major accidents, save what happened on Wednesday night." Dumbledore was saying. "I believe Miss Potter is still recuperating, her injuries were quite severe. Madam Pomfrey made the decision to call in a Healer from St Mungo's in order to treat the damage faster." She saw Mr Malfoy's interest flare as her name was mentioned, his eyes suddenly flicking over to her bed. She kept her eyes half closed, as if she hadn't noticed them, doing her best to appear oblivious.

"Ah yes, there she is." Dumbledore moved over to her bedside. The Governors followed, standing at either side of her bed, curious to see the Potter girl who escaped the curse of Voldemort.

"And how are we feeling this morning, Miss Potter?" Dumbledore asked with a warm smile on his face.

"Better, thank you Professor." She answered, slightly uncomfortable with the eyes of the Governors on her. She felt like some kind of museum exhibit. "I don't think I've had much luck with accidents this term!" she said with a small laugh which hurt her sides. "Although at least I'm keeping Madam Pomfrey on her toes!"

"Indeed, but you're recovering well, and these things do happen!" he chuckled. "I see you've had some small tokens from your friends and admirers," he commented with a smile, surveying her pile of sweets, "my my, you have done well here. Although I do believe Mr Weasley has started them for you!" He chuckled, noticing an empty box. She laughed as Dumbledore moved around to her bedside table and began to look at the cards she had been sent.

Whilst he surveyed the raft of cards offering their best wishes, she slowly moved her arms; trying to push herself up higher on her pillows. Her arms, however, did not want to comply and she winced in pain as they quivered with the strain. Moving with surprising speed for his age, Dumbledore took hold of one of her arms. She was also surprised to find Mr Malfoy, moving with the same degree of haste, taking her other arm and together gently lifting her up onto her pillows.

"Thank you." She said in a small voice, trying not to notice the way Mr Malfoy was looking at her.

"Well, we'd best be off." Dumbledore said as Madam Pomfrey bustled over with a breakfast tray and what looked to be some sort of medicine. Several of the Governors inclined their heads to her before following Dumbledore out and leaving Madam Pomfrey to fuss over her patient.

Kathryn wasn't even going to ask about going to see the Quidditch match; she couldn't see any way Madam Pomfrey would let her out of the hospital wing so she didn't bother to mention it. At half past ten, Madam Pomfrey came over again to check on her for what must have been the fourth time since breakfast.

"Well, aren't you going to the match?" she asked, nodding to the pile of neatly folded clothes lying on the end of her bed.

"I didn't think you'd let me." Kathryn raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"Oh, go on. You're fine to walk, so long as I don't hear about any more stunts on a broomstick." Moving as quickly as she could, she clumsily dressed herself with the help of Madam Pomfrey and gingerly made her way slowly down into the deserted Entrance Hall. She reached the bottom of the front steps when she heard another set of footsteps behind her.

"She let you out of the hospital wing I see." Mr Malfoy said, coming to walk alongside her.

"And I see you have found the time to indulge in your favourite hobby of skulking around. First the Ministry and now here, whatever next?" the unexpected, sarcastic jibe shocked him and he found himself unable to reply. "And she did let me out, yes, although I didn't think she would. I thought she'd be too afraid I'd pull some stunt on a broomstick." She continued with a small laugh, mimicking Madam Pomfrey's warning.

"Well, no danger of that this time," he commented, "unless you have switched houses since the last match."

They walked in silence until they reached the steps that divided the main castle lawn from the Quidditch pitch; where, to her astonishment, he offered her his arm to help her down the wet stairs. She took it gratefully and kept her hold as they walked across the soaking ground towards the stadium. She stopped as they reached the entrance at the bottom of a different tower this time.

"These were not designed for people with leg injuries." She said, gazing up the many flights of steps. He was patient; holding onto her as she carefully climbed the damp, muddy steps. They managed to reach the main landing with the two exits leading off to the stands, both of which were full to bursting. Kathryn leant up against the inside wall, her face contorted in pain, rubbing her legs with her hands to try and soothe the stabbing pain.

"You can't watch from here, you can barely stand." He said matter-of-factly and, in one smooth movement, he swept her up in his arms. She flung her arms around his neck, more out of surprise than anything else, and held on tight, not daring to meet her eyes. Her heart was thudding in her chest, reeling from the shock, whilst he carried her up the final few flights of stairs. She did not know whose reputation he was trying to protect, but as they reached the top landing he set her down gently and walked out supporting her with his arm around her back.

She soon realised why they had entered through a different tower. Mr Malfoy was here with the Governors and that meant that they sat with the Headmaster. They edged their way along to the two unoccupied seats in the middle of the front row, several of the Governors standing and helping her along to her seat. They seemed quite excited to be so near to a Potter and they eagerly questioned her about how she was feeling and wished her well in her recovery. She was also reassured by Dumbledore's presence, as she knew that Mr Malfoy could not hope to try anything under his watchful gaze.

It was a fast paced match and, although the Slytherin team were more brawn than brains, their brooms allowed them to take the upper hand very quickly. It was a shame, as there was some considerable skill on the Hufflepuff team. Kathryn forced herself to clap politely when the Slytherins scored, but cheered a great deal louder when the Hufflepuff team did the same.

To her disappointment, Malfoy caught the Snitch after half an hour and the game ended with Slytherin winning two hundred points to seventy. She and Mr Malfoy remained in their seats until the stands below them had cleared and he once again helped her down the stairs. Her legs, stiff from sitting down for a prolonged period, gave in after only a few flights and, once again, Mr Malfoy scooped her into his arms and carried her the rest of the way.

She was surprised to find several of the Governors waiting at the entrance for them. They were very eager to talk to her and, although she knew that this was partially because she had survived Voldemort's curse, she still obliged them with conversation. Surprisingly, they were perfectly amiable and were more eager to speak with her about the school than they were to pry into her private life. Not an eyebrow was raised at the presence of her arm through Mr Malfoy's, all of them obviously assuming that she needed support when walking. She excused herself from their company when they reached the castle and she saw Harry, Hermione and Ron waiting for her. She carefully hid the fact that she was arm-in-arm with Lucius Malfoy as she said goodbye.

Being gentlemen, they bowed to her when she left, and then proceeded on into the Great Hall for lunch. Before the three of them could say anything, she walked as fast as she could manage into the Great Hall and grabbed a plate of sandwiches. Taking a jug of juice in her other hand, she led the way up to Gryffindor common room, leaving the others to follow in her wake. She didn't get far, however, before Hermione took the jug and plate whilst Ron and Harry swung her arms over their shoulders and helped her the rest of the way to Gryffindor Tower.

"Why did Madam Pomfrey let you out of the hospital wing?" Hermione said in an exasperated tone as Kathryn settled herself onto a sofa and began to eat. "I mean; you can barely walk."

"Hermione, stop fussing, I'm fine. My legs are a bit wobbly, that's all." Kathryn sighed, taking a long drink of orange juice.

"So what were you doing in the Headmaster's box then?" Harry asked directly, fixing his sister with a piercing stare.

"Well, when I say my legs are fine, I mean that they're still there." She explained with a sheepish look. "They still hurt like hell. I met the Governors this morning when they visited the hospital wing and they extended an invitation for me to join them at the match." She thought it sounded plausible, and at least half of it was true.

"But Malfoy's dad was there!"

"And what was he going to do?" she asked in an exasperated tone. "He would have been a fool to try something with Dumbledore so close."

"Point taken." Hermione noted, hoping to put an end to the discussion.

"I still don't trust him." Harry shrugged, a scowl plastered across his face. "Not within three feet of you."

"I'm a big girl, Harry," Kathryn smirked at her overprotective brother, "I can take care of myself."

At breakfast the next morning many people were surprised to see a shadow moving across their table. Looking up they could see a large package, carried by six screech owls, circling above their heads. What surprised them even more was when they landed in front of Kathryn. The package turned out to be a huge bouquet of flowers, in brilliant shades of red and gold, the Gryffindor colours, with a card wishing her well from the school Governors. They had all signed the card and Kathryn found herself blushing as she carried it out of the hall and back up to her dormitory. This also confirmed who had bought the mystery item from Dior as Lucius Malfoy's signature matched the writing on the card.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N - A short chapter this time. The guilt and pain grows deeper. He re-opens old wounds.

**20/11/09 - Chapter revised and updated!!!**

Please read, enjoy and review!!

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They had their first Hogsmeade visit halfway through November, trudging through foot high drifts of snow as they made their way down the main street. Every shop was full of students sheltering form the icy wind; even the Hog's Head seemed to be busier than usual, people less fussy about where they had a drink on a cold day. After having spent a good hour nursing flagons of warm Butterbeer in The Three Broomsticks, Kathryn waved goodbye to Harry, Ron and Hermione as they headed off up the main thoroughfare towards Honeydukes.

In contrast to all the other students who were doing their best to avoid being outdoors for too long, Kathryn ploughed her way through the snow until she reached the hill that looked over the village. She buried her face further into her scarf and dug her hand deeper into her pockets; determined not to turn back just because it was a bit cold. It was her favourite spot; quiet and calm and a place to which few paid any heed due to the considerable diversion offered by Honeydukes or the Three Broomsticks. Even when there was uproar at school, or when they were dogged by fear and unhappiness, this spot never changed. If anything, it offered her a rare moment of solitude in a life filled with overwhelming responsibility.

She heard the small 'pop' of someone apparating but she disregarded it, many of the students who had passed their test used Hogsmeade opportunities to muck around. She ignored the footsteps right up until they came to a halt right behind her.

"What luck." A cold voice sounded in the windy air.

"Yes, luck." She sighed, her stomach sinking. Despite the fact that she was well wrapped up, she could not feel one shred of warmth in her body.

"I should thank you for making my hunt easier."

"You're welcome." She replied in the same, expressionless tone.

"Now, why don't we retire somewhere altogether more private?" although he phrased it as one, she knew it was not a question. She did not reply, simply bowing her head and accepting the inevitable.

As she felt his arm snake tightly around her waist, she wished that the same apparition restrictions applied to Hogsmeade as they did to Hogwarts. Their bodies twisted and, moments later, they disappeared from the hillside. She didn't recognise the room to which he had brought her, but judging by the view out of the window, she was back in Wiltshire. For the few moments she stood before the window, ignoring him as he moved off somewhere, she contemplated how he knew where she was. She wondered if he had been watching her, perhaps since her arrival in the village; like some wild animal stalking its prey. She did not have time to consider this any further as she heard the click of a key turning in a lock. She kept her gaze fixed on the lawns below her as he came to stand behind her.

"So, have you changed your mind?" he asked, slowly unwinding the scarf from around her neck. "Are you going to keep your silence?" his hands slid her coat from her shoulders and threw it casually aside. "Or is your tongue looser today?" his voice was cold and cruel, as if attempting to frighten her. Kathryn took a deep breath before answering.

"You know my answer." She replied in a flat tone, resigned to the inevitable. "I wonder that you bother asking."

"Excellent." He said in an icy tone that sent a shiver running up her spine. This only made him smirk even more as his roving hands tugged her jumper over her head and undid the buttons of her jeans. Tears beading at the corner of her eyes, Kathryn desperately tried to ignore what was going on, trying to think of anything other than what he was doing. She could not, however, remain totally passive. Such a feat was impossible. She knew that he would love the fact that she responded to him, that he elicited a reaction despite all her efforts to remain detached.

Once he was sated, instead of leaving her alone as he usually did, he remained beside her. She laid facing away from him, curled up and ashamed, hating the fact that she had given him satisfaction. Closing her eyes, she let sleep wash over her in comforting, empty waves. Several hours later, she was horrified to awaken to the feeling of another body against hers. Blinking in the dim light, she felt the bile rise in her throat as she realised that she was comfortably nestled in his arms.

Not caring for whether she woke him or not, she scrambled as far away from him as possible, nearly toppling off the edge of the bed as she did so. Finding her clothes, randomly scattered about the room, she quickly and checked her watch. It was quarter to six and they had to be back through the castle gates by six o'clock. He woke up just in time to see her wrap her cloak about her shoulders and disapparate.

She reappeared seconds later on the dark hillside and, checking her watch only to see that she had ten minutes left to get back, began to sprint back towards the castle. A light snow was falling and it stung her cheeks as she tried to run through the thick drifts; at one point slipping on a patch of ice and landing flat on her backside. She picked herself up, ignoring the chill that was permeating her jeans, and made it to the castle gates, cold and out of breath, with a minute to spare. Filch shook his head as he saw her run through the gates, disappointed that no student was to fall foul of the rules tonight. She headed straight to the Great Hall where she found Harry, Ron and Hermione still eating.

"Where've you been?" Ron asked through a mouthful of shepherd's pie.

"I went for a walk, you know, in the woods by the Shrieking Shack. I got a little lost!" She lied, faking sheepishness as she helped herself to a serving of shepherd's pie.

"We should tie a cow-bell round your neck." Ron said with a laugh before returning his attention to his dinner. Harry shook his head in amusement at his sister, knowing her tendency to wander did often get the better of her. Kathryn laughed at her 'mistake' as she began her dinner; all the while feeling inordinately guilty for the lies she kept on spinning in order to keep them from the grim truth.

Later that night, once the rest of the girls had gone to sleep, Kathryn lay awake. She stared blankly at the hangings above her, unable to sleep. She mused over what had happened that day and her mind kept returning to one thing. Every time he was with her, he never kissed her properly. He didn't even look her in the eye most of the time.

She did not know whether this distanced him from what he was doing, if it made it less personal for him. Of course, no matter what he did or how he did it, nothing could detach her from the pain he caused. Nothing could make his actions any less personal. Everything that he had done today had only served to re-open, and rub salt into, the wounds he had caused in August. She lay awake for several hours, unable to understand why her body persisted in betraying her. She in no way enjoyed what he did to her yet, somewhere deep inside, she did and she loathed herself for it.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N - Right, here we find out what was in that parcel, watch as a stir is caused and generally have a jolly old time. This is also where you see the scene that inspired the whole thing on that disgustingly long bus journey in the middle of the night when they just happened to put Chamber of Secrets on the TV. I will explain at the end which bit it was.

**3/12/09 - CHAPTER REVISED AND UPDATED!!**

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Christmas arrived with a great sense of anticipation in the air, and that was not just due to the arrival of the holidays. Most of the students in the sixth, seventh, eighth and ninth years had stayed at Hogwarts for the holidays as Dumbledore had announced that there was to be a ball held to celebrate what was, approximately, the schools 1100th anniversary three days after Christmas.

On Christmas morning, Harry and Ron were woken by Hermione and Kathryn bursting through their dormitory door. Each of them had an armful of presents and huge grins on their faces. Seamus, Neville and Dean were already downstairs so Kathryn and Hermione had brought their presents in to open with Harry and Ron. They all did very well, Mrs Weasley sending her usual hand-knitted jumpers and a box of homemade mince pies each.

From the twins they all received a variety of mischief-making devices; from their own Dragon Dungbombs to Decoy Detonators and Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder. Lupin, ever the one to encourage their education, had sent them each a book from a series on advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts; curses and counter-curses for Hermione, diversionary magic for Ron and advanced duelling for both Harry and Kathryn.

Sirius had sent a set of personalised stationary and a new quill for Hermione, a broom-care kit for Ron, a new chess set for Harry and a necklace for Kathryn that looked like a Black family heirloom. Hagrid had all a large tin of his treacle toffee that jammed your teeth shut after one bite. This was placed above the fireplace to soften before they dared eat any.

In addition to the gifts they gave each other, Kathryn had two extra presents. One was a large bouquet flowers in varying shades of purple and deep red, interspersed with sprigs of mistletoe. The second was in the box from Dior. She left that one on her bed, unopened, as they went to breakfast. She was almost afraid to open it, although sure it could contain nothing sinister. It was only when they were alone in the common room that she fetched it down.

Harry, Ron and Hermione watched with anticipation as she placed the large box on the floor, only to sit and stare at it with apprehension.

"It's not going to open itself." Ron commented after a few minutes of silence.

"I know." Sighing, she slid off her chair, knelt down and undid the ribbon.

She lifted the lid to find the contents concealed by a layer of pale tissue paper. Poking out from between the layers was a small envelope with 'Kathryn Potter –Private' written across it in the same handwriting that had instructed her not to open the box until Christmas. When they averted their gaze for just a moment, she gently slid the card out and tucked it in the back pocket of her jeans; preferring that they had no idea who it came from. Once they had returned their attention to the contents of the box, she folded back several layers of tissue to find a layer of ivory silk covering whatever was inside. She drew this back to reveal a neatly folded piece of black fabric. Taking it gently by what appeared to be the top edge; she stood up and allowed it to billow out from the box.

Hermione gasped in awe from her vantage point directly across from Kathryn. She was holding up a black ball gown, crafted from luxurious, expensive-looking black fabric. The bodice had a single, wide shoulder strap that would go over her right shoulder and was nothing short of a corset, with black silken ties running down the back. Made from soft, luxurious black velvet; it stretched down past her hips and was slightly asymmetric, the left side longer than the right. The skirt which fanned out where the bodice ended was made up of black silk; stitched into many folds so that when she was wearing it, would trail out behind her.

"Wow!" Hermione gasped. Harry and Ron remained silent, struck dumb by what they were seeing.

"Who could have sent you something like that?" Harry finally said, gazing dumbstruck at the garment.

"There wasn't a note, was there?" Hermione asked, pulling the box towards her and leafing through the folds of tissue and silk.

"No, no note, no anything." She lied, tucking her finger in the back pocket of her jeans and pushing the card in further.

"Well, it's obviously for the ball, isn't it?" Hermione commented matter-of-factly.

"Yes, but I've already got a dress." Kathryn said, nodding her head in the direction of their dormitory.

"Yes, but you've had that one for a while now and I know which one I'd rather wear! You should try it on."

"No." She said quickly. "It's nearly lunch and I'd rather not be wearing it when everyone gets back in from the snow." Carefully, she folded the dress back into the box and covered it up with its protective layers of paper.

"Don't mention this to anyone." She added in a serious tone as she took the stairs two at a time, eager to get the gift off her mind.

Christmas dinner was a spectacular affair. The tables were piled high with wizard crackers that went off with a blast like a cannon and a flash of stars every time one was pulled. They ate until they could stomach no more, Ginny nearly breaking her tooth on a silver sickle embedded in her slice of Christmas pudding. All around the room people were sporting hats that had exploded out of their crackers; Professor McGonagall swapping her usual tartan-trimmed hat for a straw boater whilst Kathryn set a red feathered tricorne hat jauntily upon her head. They returned to the common room and collapsed lazily by the fire for an hour or so before heading outside into the thick snow.

After watching spending a while watching Harry, Ron and Hermione bewitch snowballs to fly after Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, Kathryn retreated out of sight and reached for the card in her back pocket. It was made from the same thick paper as the note on the outside, with a thin silver border snaking round the edge and the letter 'M' embossed in the middle of the bottom edge. It contained only one sentence, written in the same black ink.

_Merry Christmas_.

Turning it over she found a much more sinister, and unexpected, line.

_Consider yourself taken._

It was simple and to the point. Nobody had actually asked her to the ball yet but she had noticed groups of boys murmuring as they passed in the corridors, egging on their friends to ask her. Despite her looks she did little to make herself purposefully attractive, unlike some in her year who spent an inordinate amount of time before the mirror each morning. Even though she would have liked to be asked to the ball by someone, she had shied away from relationships whilst at Hogwarts; knowing her future would be too fraught for something to work. She supposed it was fortunate then, that she didn't have to cope with a boyfriend as well as the unwelcome attentions of Lucius Malfoy.

Something hard smacking into the back of her head brought her thoughts to an abrupt end. Massaging the back of her head, she looked around for her assailant and saw Malfoy with a superior grin on his face and another snowball in his fist. She ducked his next shot, shoving the card back into her pocket.

"So, which unlucky sod is going to the ball with you then Potter?" he shouted in a mocking tone, balling more snow in his hind.

"None of your business." She called back.

"That means no one, doesn't it?" he laughed, launching a third missile at her head. "Aren't the prefects supposed to be part of the traditional opening or something? Doesn't that mean you have to have a partner? Is everyone afraid you'll go psycho on them?" he laughed even more, throwing another snowball.

"If you're fishing for a date, Malfoy, you're looking in the wrong place." She drawled with a smirk. "Then again, Pansy Parkinson is really the best you can ever hope to achieve, isn't it? I suppose it's alright if you like pug noses." She fixed him with a confident gaze, daring him to say something back.

"You stuck up cow. The best you will ever do is a Weasley, and, oh yeah, the Mudblood's already got him!" He shouted back, his face livid. In his anger, Malfoy hadn't noticed the way she twirled and flicked her wand

"Big mistake, Malfoy." She said coolly, flicking her wand again. Before he could move, a drift of snow landed right on top of him.

She had discreetly levitated it from a nearby tree and the rest of the Gryffindors joined in with her laughter when they came running over to see what had happened. They laughed even harder as Crabbe and Goyle rushed to get him out, only to fall headfirst into the snow thanks to a discreetly whispered trip-jinx. As she walked back to the castle she smiled to herself, privately she couldn't wait to see the look on Malfoy's face in three days time, although she personally was slightly dreading it.

The twenty-eighth came around very quickly and they found themselves eating a lunch of hot turkey and stuffing sandwiches in their common rooms, as the Great Hall was being cleaned and decorated for the ball that evening. Judging by the usual Christmas decorations that adorned the hall, the Great Hall was going to look spectacular come the evening.

Eventually needing a break from the crackling warmth of the common room fire, they retreated into the crisp afternoon air, passing Malfoy and his father talking in the Entrance Hall. She heard them discussing the approaching ball, Malfoy apparently being reproached for his choice of partner.

"It's all well and good being pure-blood." She heard Mr Malfoy say. "But couldn't you go with someone a little better looking?" she stifled a giggle, for it was true that Pansy Parkinson was not a renowned beauty.

"Well, I like Pansy, and who else is there to go with anyway?" Draco asked defiantly.

"You have a point. But at least be honest and tell her that her hairstyle doesn't suit her. Something simpler would be infinitely easier on the eyes."

"Like?" Draco seemed nonplussed.

"Say," he paused, catching sight of Kathryn, "say, Miss Potter, for example." He gestured at her as she headed for the doors.

"What!" Draco exclaimed. "But you hate them, she's a Potter!" He added in a hushed tone.

"Yes, but look at her." His eyes lingered on her as she walked away; dressed in a pair of blue jeans with her black Chanel coat, her hair tied in a loose ponytail with the silver ribbon from the box of the dress he had bought her. "Potter or not, she is still a magnificent example of beauty" Draco, who was also looking, did not seem to see anything remarkable. His father dismissed what he had said with a wave of his hand.

"Forget it. You wouldn't understand." Once Draco had looked away, he snatched another glance of Kathryn as she went out the door, looking forward very much to seeing her that evening.

Although the boys spent most of the afternoon outside having snowball fights, Kathryn and Hermione stayed out of the snow and retreated indoors at four o'clock to get ready. They both took a nice long bath in the prefects' bathroom, relaxing in the variety of fragranced bubbles, before tending to their hair, which was washed and conditioned thoroughly before being twisted up into towels.

They returned to find the other eighth-year girls already dressed in the common room; Lavender and Parvati fussing with the drape of their gowns. Dressed in baggy pyjama bottoms and their underwear, they stood before the mirror in their dormitory and tended to their hair. Hermione, after applying liberal amounts of Sleekeazy's, twisted her hair into an elegant chignon whilst Kathryn allowed her hair to fall in its natural, soft waves down her back, pinning it slightly to hold it off her neck.

Hermione put on her dress first. It was made of a floaty, deep purple material and had beading around the shoulders and neckline that made it sparkle in the lamp-light. To this she added earrings, a necklace and a bracelet set with matching amethyst stones that Kathryn had bought her for Christmas. As a final touch, she brushed on an almost invisible layer of indigo eye shadow to bring out the colour of her dress even more.

It was then Kathryn's turn, sliding the soft black material of her dress over her head; being careful not to ruin her hair. She caught sight of herself in the mirror and could not help but laugh as she was still wearing her blue pyjama bottoms and white bra, thus looking incredibly stupid. Whilst Hermione giggled she slid off the bottoms and expertly whipped off her bra, throwing them onto her bed.

Hermione then helped her lace up the back, which they tried to tie as loosely as possible. She did not want to seem to be dressing too provocatively, although that was hard considering the dress. She also wore the bodice slightly higher than was intended and, even though it did not look completely right, she felt less exposed. Hermione had been right when she had said which dress she would have preferred to wear. It flattered her figure immensely; it was just the right size and made her look much more grown up than she would have had she worn her old dress.

When Hermione went downstairs Kathryn added the final touches. She pulled out a small box from her trunk and pulled on some of the expensive, lacy underwear she had bought in the summer, using a lace belt to hold up a pair of barely-black silk stockings. It wasn't that she expected anything to happen, how could he possibly dare with so many potential witnesses, but she did like the way nice underwear made her feel. And after all, it was probably the only personal touch she could put to the outfit.

She left her face plain, save for some dusky eye shadow and mascara. Once she had slipped her feet into her shoes, she was ready to go. As an afterthought, she threw a gauzy black shawl over her exposed shoulder and arm, trying to make a token gesture towards modesty.

Hermione was waiting with Harry and Ron, who were both dressed in smart black dress robes; Ron thankfully having replaced the second hand pair bought for him in fourth year. By the looks on their faces she could see that they thought she looked good, even though they were lost for words. Ginny, dressed in a beautiful gown of twilight blue, met them in the common room and she too was stunned into silence by Kathryn's dress.

They said nothing until they reached the Entrance Hall where everyone was going in. Many people stared as she walked slowly down the steps, holding herself perfectly, her heels clicking on the stone floor. Several boys came over and asked her if she would be their partner. She simply shook her head and moved on; her stomach twisting into knots at the thought of what she had to do next.

Kathryn pretended to have to fiddle with her shoes and stayed behind, perched on one of the soft chairs that had been laid out in small groups in the Entrance Hall for students to sit in. Of course, they did not know that there was nothing wrong with her shoes. Once the Entrance Hall was deserted and the doors to the Great Hall closed, she stood and slipped through a side door and into an antechamber where Lucius Malfoy was waiting for her. He said nothing by way of greeting as she walked past him to stand in front of the window, instead walking behind her and gently sliding the shawl off her shoulder; letting it fall to the floor at his feet.

"Well?" she asked defiantly, turning to face him. "Happy?"

"Turn around." He said simply, motioning with his finger. She did so, wondering what the problem was.

She felt his fingers run down the lacing that stretched up her back; coming to the bottom and, with one pull, undoing the bow that held it taught. He moved the bodice around a bit, pulling it lower down on her body so it rested where it was supposed to be; exposing more of her cleavage than she would have liked, but she uttered no words of protest. She braced her hands on windowsill before her, knowing instinctively what was coming next.

"I did not buy you this dress for you to look normal." He said in a calm, icy tone as he tugged the silken threads tightly, pulling the back of the bodice closer and closer together, making her gasp. "I bought it because I want to be dancing with the most attractive person in the room." She gasped further as he tugged harder and the sides of the bodice met.

"There." He said in a satisfied tone as he tied the laces together. "Doesn't that look better?" he asked, turning her on the spot to gaze at her reflection in a mirror he had conjured. She nodded silently as she regarded herself in the mirror. The dress did certainly look better when worn properly; giving her a rather stunning, sexier than normal appearance that she liked. Not that she was going to tell him.

"And, for the finishing touches." He murmured in her ear. He threaded a pair of long earrings into her ears and fastened a bracelet around her wrist. She stared at them in awe for they were studded with large diamonds, set in platinum. From a small table he produced a black, velveteen box and withdrew its contents. Lifting his arms above her head he laid a matching, diamond studded necklace around her neck. She let out a small gasp when she saw it; marvelling for a few moments at the way they sparkled in the candlelight.

"Merry Christmas." He said softly in her ear, wrapping his arms round her waist and gently kissing her neck.

"Why?" she asked in awe.

"Narcissa has never liked them, and why should something so beautiful go to waste?" it was the first time he had ever mentioned his wife but he spoke her name in a way that made her seem like merely an impersonal entity. "Now," he offered her his arm, "I believe they may be ready for us." He led her back out into the deserted Entrance Hall, although the sound of many excited students could be heard through the doors. There was a small commotion at the door of another anteroom and, moments later, the Governors and their wives and husbands entered.

"Just follow my lead." He murmured as they approached the rest of the party.

"Why, there you are Malfoy!" One of them exclaimed. "We'd wondered where you'd gotten to, and," he paused when he saw Kathryn, "why, Miss Potter. So good to see you again." He kissed her hand. "But, Malfoy, where is your darling Narcissa?" he questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh she's in the Alps for the New Year with some of her friends. I couldn't bring myself to tear her away." Mr Malfoy explained. "But, Miss Potter has kindly consented to be my partner for this evening." Inside, Kathryn laughed at his use of the word 'consent'.

"Did you not have a partner already, Miss Potter?" he asked.

"No, no one had asked me sir."

"Well, that was incredibly generous of you, as I am sure you could have had your pick. Well, we'll talk later." Positively beaming, he moved to take his place in line before the doors to the Great Hall. Kathryn, following his lead as he had told her to, took her place at the end of her line and he took the place at the end of his. She could hear Dumbledore's voice faintly through the doors.

"And now, might I ask you to welcome the Governors and their partners." The doors swung open and the women walked forward first into the Great Hall to the music of a small orchestra in the corner. They separated, going left and right alternately, until they formed a line directly opposite the top table. Kathryn was smack bang in the middle and could feel the burn of a hundred eyes upon her. Instead of looking at their faces, she swept her eyes around the opulently decorated room.

The usual long tables had been cleared away and small, round tables now stood in their place, thus leaving space for a dance floor in the middle of the room. All the Christmas trees remained, but there were additional decorations in the Hogwarts colours; great swaths of fabric were draped along the walls, interspersed with banners bearing the insignia of each of the school's houses. The room was atmospherically lit, with silver candlesticks on each table and matching candelabras dotted around the vast room as well as the usual complement of fairy lights that adorned the trees.

Harry, Ron and Hermione, who had been wondering what had happened to her, were staring open-mouthed; amazed at her sudden appearance.

"Who's she partnering?" Hermione whispered as they applauded politely, the men now entering in the same manner.

"Dunno." Harry shrugged, certain that his sister hadn't mentioned anything to do with partnering one of the Governors. "Just as long as it's not-." His face fell as Lucius Malfoy came to stand right behind Kathryn.

If some of the student body hadn't been staring at her before, then all eyes turned to her now. She was particularly aware of her brother's gaze, as well as that of Draco Malfoy, who had a look of sheer disgust on his face. Kathryn ignored them as she and Mr Malfoy led the line of Governors down the middle of the dance floor towards the top table where Dumbledore sat. They stopped briefly before Dumbledore, inclining their heads slightly as a sign of respect, before moving to their seats on either side of him.

"What does she think she's doing?" Harry hissed in disbelief as they continued to applaud politely.

"Did you see the rocks around her neck?" Ginny whispered to them in awe.

"Did you see her dress?" Hermione enquired in a more serious tone.

"Yeah, why?" Ron asked, confused.

"It's changed." She said in an ominous tone. "The back has been done up tightly, we left it loose. I'm surprised she can still breathe. Her shawl's gone too."

"Maybe she changed her mind. She said it felt a bit weird wearing it the way she was when we left the common room" Ron shrugged.

"Or he changed it." Hermione said under her breath, nodding towards Lucius Malfoy. Harry felt like he'd been slapped when she said this.

"She would never let him." He hissed back.

Hermione shrugged, "Just a thought." The music had stopped and Dumbledore had once again stood up.

"Thank you for that warm welcome for our Governors on this very special occasion. Depending on whether you have read Hogwarts: A History, you may or may not know that the month of December marks the decision taken by the four founders to create a school of magic. That day was one thousand, one hundred years ago and as is customary we are holding a ball to celebrate. I advise you to enjoy it, as this only comes round every one hundred years!" The entire hall was listening intently as Dumbledore continued.

"As is also customary, I would now ask the Governors to uphold the time-honoured tradition of opening this ball." The applause began again as the Governors and their companions rose once more, and made their way to the centre of the dance floor.

As the music slowly began, Harry realised what Kathryn had been up to when her had found her alone in the common room the day before. She had been dancing round the room, as if rehearsing the steps to a dance. She had denied this, saying she was just fooling around. Harry could now see what she had been practicing for. The Governors rose once again, Mr Malfoy taking Kathryn's hand and leading her into the middle of the dance floor.

They stood in two lines opposite each other down the length of the hall, Kathryn and Mr Malfoy in the middle of each. The line of men bowed, the ladies curtsied in return and the dance began. It was slow at first, the couples moving in exact time with each other as they wove in and out of each other in a traditional group dance. The music began to pick up slightly and the pace increased just a little, the couples breaking out of formation and becoming individual pairs, except for Kathryn and Mr Malfoy. After only about a minute and a half they separated, moving quickly to opposite sides of the floor, Mr Malfoy coming to stand in front of the high table with Kathryn directly opposite him, whilst the rest of the Governors danced between them.

They did not move as the others danced, either watching them or looking directly at each other. Once the music slowed again, Harry noticed Kathryn start to nod her head slightly; counting herself in before moving closer to the centre of the dance floor. Mr Malfoy did the same; the pair of them advancing slowly forward as the music slowed once more. The other partners were, by this time, back in their individual lines; their eyes now fixed on Kathryn and Mr Malfoy who had met in the middle.

Once the music was at its slowest, Mr Malfoy bowed again to Kathryn, who curtsied in return, and they began to dance alone. The music, which had never been very fast throughout the rest of the dance, now became faster and more intense. Harry, Ron and Hermione watched as their dancing also became more passionate, their bodies moving in exact harmony with each other; never missing a beat or making a mistake.

On the dance floor, Kathryn was no longer aware of the many eyes now watching them, all she could feel was the rhythm pulsing through her body and the presence of his hand on her back. The dance ended with Mr Malfoy spinning her round and pulling her towards him at the same time so she ended up with her back against his chest, looking up into his eyes. They remained like that for a few moments, slightly breathless, before separating and bowing to the now applauding students and teachers. After a minute or so they walked off the floor, hand in hand, and returned to their seats along with the rest of the Governors.

The applause eventually faded and Dumbledore stood for a third time.

"And now, let us eat." He sat and picked up the small menu that lay on his plate in front of him. "Beef fillet." He said to his plate, and, moments later it materialised. There was a flurry of noise as everyone in the hall did the same thing and cutlery began to hit plates. Although she was pleased to be sitting at the top table, Kathryn felt removed from her friends and the rest of the school; many of the students flashed her curious glances as they ate.

However, she was soon immersed in conversation and she found that she wasn't as lonely as she had thought. She had the opportunity to thank all the Governors for their get-well bouquet that they sent her as well as the one they sent for Christmas. They all eagerly questioned her about her Quidditch, explaining how Mr Malfoy had told them the tale of her flying injured. Dessert came and went quickly and, before they knew it, the orchestra had started up again and a few people were on the dance floor. Kathryn excused herself and headed over to the table where Harry, Ron and Hermione were sitting.

"What are you doing?" Ron immediately exclaimed, as quietly as he could, once she sat down.

"I'm being polite. He's a Governor."

"When did this happen then?" Harry pushed. "When did he ask you?"

"When you had gone in, the Governors arrived and he asked me. I'm being polite, Harry, he asked and I said yes." She explained.

"You seem to be 'being polite' a lot" Harry commented, raising his eyebrows. "He's not threatening you is he. I mean, he is a Death Eater."

"Don't be stupid." She lied. "How could he get away with anything like that right under Dumbledore's nose?" she snapped back. "Besides, if he was threatening me do you think I would take it lying down?" she had scarce spoken when she realise that they too were a lie, as well as an ironic choice of words.

"What about your dress then, it wasn't like that when we left the common room?" Hermione said quietly.

"It felt awkward so I changed it around a little." She stated simply.

"He didn't make you do it, did he?" she nodded at Mr Malfoy.

"No." She snapped, making sure she looked disgusted at the mere thought of such a thing. "Do you think he would be here if he'd tried?"

"And the jewellery?"

"Oh, this is just some cheap stuff that I bought in Diagon Alley." She lied. "A few charms and it looks like its real. I forgot I had them so I summoned them down from my room."

"And how come I found you practicing that dance yesterday?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I read something about how, sometimes, the Prefects, Head Boy and Head Girl had to open the ball as well as the Governors. I just thought it prudent to practice. As it turns out, McGonagall didn't want to put students through that." She shot back.

"So why did you bother practicing?"

"What is this? Gang up on Kathryn evening?"

"No." Ron said quickly.

"We're just concerned, that's all." Harry finished. "He's not exactly the safest person to be around."

They were silent for a while, watching other people dance; giggling slightly as they watched Dumbledore dance with the tiny Professor Sprout. She too stood up and danced with Harry and Ron as well as some boys in the lower and upper years because they asked nicely. She danced several times with Mr Malfoy as the evening progressed, as well as many of the Governors with whom she had become friendly. It was at about ten o'clock that the unexpected happened. Draco Malfoy came over to talk to her when she was standing alone at the top table, leaning against the edge and sipping champagne from a crystal flute.

"My father says you'll dance with me." He said in a blunt tone.

"Only if you ask nicely." She said in a cool voice, not looking at him. Instead her eyes searched for his father who, from his position across the room, gave her a small nod. She did not particularly wish to dance with him, but she was willing to put their differences aside, being as it was a special occasion.

"Will you dance with me?" he said again in a slightly more polite tone.

"Tut, tut," she scolded in a mocking voice, "say please."

"Please." He said through gritted teeth.

"Fine." She said, draining her glass and, when the music started for the next song, she walked out to the dance floor with him. This actually shocked Harry, Ron and Hermione more than the fact that she was his father's partner.

Agreeing to dance with Malfoy turned out to be a mistake. Unlike his father, he had no idea of how to dance properly. As he took the lead, Kathryn could tell it was going to be a nasty experience. To her dismay, the music was faster paced compared to previous dances. Where she'd had proper dance training at Beauxbatons, as it was one of their traditions harking back to the days before the revolution, Malfoy had not. He paid no heed to her subtle attempts to guide him, leading her in a strange way across the dance floor; twirling her round at random points. It was a humiliating experience and she caught a glimpse of the Slytherins sniggering at her from a corner table.

Harry was also not enjoying the sight, sitting with Ron and Hermione; all of them completely aghast. The music slowed for a moment and Harry caught Malfoy looking straight at him over his sister's shoulder. With a smirk, he moved his hand inappropriately low on Kathryn's back, all the while glaring at Harry. Harry was ready to pull out his wand and hex him if it were not for Hermione and Ron holding him back. Kathryn equally horrified and equally in favour of hexing Malfoy into next week, but such a display would do her no favours. Instead, before he took her on yet another stupid whirl around the dance floor, she shot a pleading look towards his father.

Mr Malfoy, who had been watching from the corner of his eye, saw his son's actions and Kathryn's pleading look. Politely, he excused himself from conversation and made a beeline for his son.

"Harry, look!" Hermione whispered in a slightly high-pitched voice, pointing across the dance floor, although not relinquishing her firm grip on his arm. Lucius Malfoy was striding determinedly across the dance floor towards his son with a look of rage on his face.

Kathryn, who had been sent into another ridiculous spin by Malfoy, did not see this and was not aware of any change in partner. Mr Malfoy, meanwhile, had practically shoved his son out of the way and was standing ready to take her hand. Kathryn felt another, stronger hand take hers and, as she resumed dancing, found that she was facing Lucius Malfoy instead. Despite everything, she was glad for the replacement and they danced on.

Harry, although glad to see Malfoy so publicly shamed, did not like to see his sister once again in the arms of his father. They watched curiously at the pair of them moved together as if they did this every day. Kathryn in particular looked oddly at ease with the way he was holding her. The dance ended and, her hand lingering in his for a few moments, she headed back over to Harry, Ron and Hermione; shooting Malfoy a look of pure venom as she passed.

"Remind me never to dance with the ferret again, no matter how nicely he asks." She sighed, collapsing into a chair and taking a long drink of champagne.

"You'd better be careful." Hermione warned ominously.

"Why? What are you so concerned about?" Kathryn asked in an exasperated tone.

"Can't you see?" Kathryn shrugged her shoulders, pretending to be baffled by what they were saying.

"You are being courted by Lucius Malfoy!" Harry hissed under his breath.

"That's absurd." She lied; really wanting to scream at him how right he actually was, but she didn't, instead remaining silent.

"Think of what you know, he wants you for information." Harry went on.

"He's a Governor."

"And a Death Eater!" Hermione said in the same quiet voice.

"Even so. As long as he remains a school Governor and I remain a prefect, I will dance with him when he asks me." She told them in an angry voice before standing up and making to walk off.

"Where are you going?" Harry demanded, grabbing her arm.

"For a walk. Alone." She said defiantly back, tugging her elbow free and walking quickly for the door.

The Entrance Hall was silent as she walked through it, her heels clicking softly on the stone floor. Below the main steps up to the castle the thick snow had been cleared and a small garden created. There were few people out, most walking hand in hand, sometimes disappearing into the shadows for a quick kiss.

Fairies were sat in the trees and shrubs, giving off a soft, glowing white light. Kathryn supposed it had been magically heated, as she could not detect a trace of the freezing winter air as she sat down on a stone bench in a secluded corner by the castle wall. After a final glance to check that there was no one around, she buried her head in her hands. Had she not had to return to a ball, she would have cried her eyes out. Unfortunately, such action would make her face red and puffy and she couldn't afford for any of her friends to catch on that there was something wrong. She just sat there for several minutes, sinking further and further into despair.

Inside, after quickly scanning the hall and not finding her, Mr Malfoy also ventured outside and found her still sitting on the bench.

"My apologies for my son." He apologised, sitting down next to her. "I didn't realise he would use you to take a cheap shot at your brother." She lifted her head up, turning to look at him.

"He is suspicious, they all are." She stated, hoping he would take it as a hint to back off.

"Well, that will soon wear off, won't it?" she turned her face away from him, willing herself to say no. "Because you're not going to say a word, are you?" he finished in an icy tone; placing his fingers on her chin and turning her face back to look into his. She stared into his eyes for a moment before closing her eyes and hanging her head.

"No." She said softly.

"Good girl." He said quietly, gently brushing her cheek with his lips. "Good girl."

Kathryn resisted the impulse to run, instead allowing herself to be comforted by the way he gently held her in his arms. After a few moments he stood and offered her his arm.

"Come, I believe there is a party you are missing." He smiled warmly and she rose, straightening out her dress and slipping her arm through his.

They received a few looks as they came through the doors to the Great Hall, although many were just fleeting glances. Privately, many people there thought them to be the most handsome couple; Kathryn in her extraordinary dress and jewels and Mr Malfoy in his equally expensive black suit.

She walked over to Harry, Ron and Hermione who were all trying to look nonchalant, as if they weren't disapproving of what she was doing. She clutched a stiffer drink this time, Ogden's Firewhisky, and she was not off put by the air of tension that appeared as she came closer.

"He came out to apologise for his son." She said before they could open their mouths, glancing over at Mr Malfoy who was at this very moment having a stern conversation with Draco who was turning progressively pinker.

"So, before you launch into a tirade about how what I'm doing is dangerous, I'll say this. I know what I'm doing, so stop worrying and enjoy yourselves." Exhaling deeply, she downed her drink and slammed the glass back down on the table. They nodded sheepishly and mumbled a few words of apology before visibly brightening up. Surprisingly, they soon dragged her out onto the dance floor, where she was soon having an enjoyable time dancing with the three of them.

Harry didn't even protest when Mr Malfoy walked over and claimed her for a dance, instead handing his sister's hand over and going to dance with Ginny. Kathryn even danced with Neville, who in her expert hands, moved across the floor with more finesse than Malfoy could ever manage.

All too soon it was midnight and they had returned to their seats whilst Dumbledore stood up once more.

"Well," he began with a beaming smile upon his face, "I am sorry to bring to an end what has been a spectacular evening. I must once again thank our Governors for joining us this evening and would now ask that you bid them farewell." The music started and the students began again to applaud again as the Governors and their partners rose and filed out the hall with Lucius Malfoy and Kathryn leading the way. They headed straight through the Entrance Hall and into a large antechamber equipped with many soft armchairs and a blazing fire. After a few moments Dumbledore arrived and bade them all goodnight, shaking hands with the men and kissing the hands of the ladies, including Kathryn. She assumed that the Governors were staying in the castle overnight as all the women, except her, wished their husbands goodnight and retired to bed.

Once they were gone, the brandy was poured and they settled themselves in chairs and began to talk about all manner of things. She also made to leave, even though she did not feel tired, but they enthusiastically bade her stay. So, accepting a glass of brandy, Kathryn settled herself on the same sofa as Mr Malfoy and joined in the discussion.

For people she had thought to be interested in her for the fact that she was a Potter, they were very nice gentlemen who did genuinely seem to enjoy her company. She freely discussed her hopes for the future, explaining her controversial plans to either become an Auror, Minister for Magic or play Quidditch for England. After that comment many of the Governors insisted on coming to see her play at Gryffindor's next match.

She liked talking about matters that were outside her normal life and, those who were Governors, found her opinion useful when their conversation turned to school matters. Lulled into a state of ease by the warmth of the fire and the brandy combined, Kathryn felt her eyelids become heavier as she listened to the conversation. The next thing Mr Malfoy knew, he felt a head droop onto his shoulder and, looking down, he saw Kathryn resting serenely against his arm.

"I suppose I'd better take her back to her common room." Mr Malfoy said with a small smile. He stood and gently picked her up, holding her slight form in his arms whilst someone else stood and opened the door. "Where is it actually, the Gryffindor common room?" he asked his colleagues.

"Fifth floor, portrait of the Fat Lady." One of them answered. As an afterthought he picked up his cloak before he went out the door. She stirred slightly as he walked up the main stairs, but otherwise lay peacefully in his arms. And so he carried her through the corridors of the castle, thankfully not encountering any teachers; all the way to the portrait of the Fat Lady, who was snoozing in her frame. Gently, he roused the sleeping girl in his arms.

"The password?" he asked quietly.

"Fairy Lights." She murmured.

"Fairy Lights!" He hissed at the portrait, which dutifully swung forward and allowed them into the pitch-black common room.

"Lumos." Mr Malfoy whispered, pulling out his wand and shining it on the floor so as not to wake any of the portraits. He worked his way to the large sofa in front of the remains of the fire, doing his best to avoid the small tables that were dotted about the room. He gently laid her down, although not before loosening the lacing on the back of her dress and removing her shoes so she could sleep comfortably. He was glad to have brought his cloak, as the room was quite cold now that the fire had died away. He carefully set this over her, tucking it round her sides and feet, and pulling the fur collar around her neck. She smiled unconsciously in her sleep as it tickled her.

"Good night." He whispered on her ear. No reply was made as she had fallen straight to sleep, snuggled underneath his cloak. He kissed her lightly on the cheek before leaving through the portrait hole, casting one final glance back at the serenely beautiful form on the sofa.

The entire common room slept late the next morning, and Kathryn found herself being gently shaken awake by Harry at eleven. She sat up yawning, the cloak slipping from around her shoulders.

"What time did you get in?" Hermione asked as she came down the stairs.

"I don't know. Half one, two o'clock, I'm not really sure." Kathryn replied, stretching her arms and rubbing her eyes. "Hang on a moment." She stood and scampered up the stairs to her dormitory, carefully concealing the loosened lacing running up the back of her dress. She reappeared ten minutes later dressed in jeans and a black top, her hair held back with a black ribbon. She sat back down on the sofa with her legs curled under her, pulling the cloak over her bare feet to keep them warm.

"I can't believe that I fell asleep in couture." She sighed with a smile, rubbing more sleep out of her eyes. "How decadent."

"So where did you go after the ball? We looked for you but then McGonagall made us come back up here." Harry asked.

"I sat and talked with the Governors for a while, they're really very nice people. The ladies all went to bed so it was just the men really." She giggled slightly.

"What?"

"Well, it was your stereotypical male after dinner thing, sitting by the fire with their brandy and their cigars. Although the brandy was very nice. Anyway, I think I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I remember is being asked what the password was for the common room."

"Why?" Ron asked.

"So someone could bring me back here Ron!" She said with a laugh, her fingers absentmindedly fiddling with the silver fastenings of the cloak. Harry, seeing this, reached over and took it from her. It was wrought from the finest silver galleons could buy and took the form of a snake. It could only belong to one person.

"It wasn't just anyone, though, was it?" Harry said, holding up the fastening. "It was Lucius Malfoy." Hermione let out a small gasp.

"Oh what now?" she said in an exasperated voice. "Don't say 'He's a Death Eater, he could have tried to attack Harry', he's not stupid enough to try anything like that right under Dumbledore's nose. Besides, I was asleep, I didn't even know who brought me back."

"Ok." Harry said in an unconcerned voice. "I mean, you know our concerns and, as you said, you know what you're doing." He sounded slightly hurt by her outburst.

"Look, am I ever reckless?" the three of them looked at her, raising their eyebrows doubtfully. "Ok, don't answer that!" She said with a small laugh. It was true; she wasn't one to sit by prudently and worry about the consequences. She had thrown herself in front of a potentially lethal spell to save Sirius' life without even thinking of her own. She did, however, wish that her friends hadn't fussed over her so much when Bellatrix Lestrange's spell had hit her. Whilst they had been frantically trying to get her out of the Ministry and back to Hogwarts, all the while dodging curses sent their way by the many Death Eaters, Lucius Malfoy had been able to escape and therefore avoided tarnishing his good reputation.

"Well, do I ever do anything completely stupid unless it is totally necessary?" she asked, revising her original question for she knew full well that she would never shy away from anything potentially dangerous if she thought she could help.

"True." Harry conceded; for he knew his sister was as bad as him for acting on the spur of the moment no matter the risk.

"Well, that's settled, can we go get breakfast now?" Ron, ever ruled by his stomach, jumped to his feet. They all nodded, laughing slightly at Ron's cheerful predictability, their stomachs also rumbling. Kathryn slipped her feet into her shoes that still sat on the floor and followed them out the portrait hole.

The Great Hall was bustling with people having a late breakfast; many sets of eyes were trained on her as she entered through the doors at the top of the Great Hall. She knew that people would still be whispering about her controversial choice of partner the previous evening, but she actually didn't care for their opinion. She realised, however, that was not the only reason for their stares as she saw beams of white light bounce across the walls. Moving her hand to her neck, she realised that she had not removed the weighty string of diamonds Mr Malfoy had placed around it the evening before.

Ignoring the menacing looks from the Slytherin table, she helped herself to bacon and buttered toast. She did not remove the necklace either, glancing at her reflection in the back of a spoon and deciding that it went rather well with her black V-neck top. Hedwig swooped down halfway through breakfast along with Athena and Pigwidgeon. They were all bearing identical letters for Harry, Kathryn, Hermione and Ron; telling them to pack some clothes for a few days and be outside the Headmaster's office at twelve o'clock sharp.

"Wonder what Dumbledore's up to now?" Ron said between mouthfuls of bacon and egg. They all shrugged, Kathryn and Hermione finishing their breakfast quickly so they could return upstairs to pack. Ron and Harry sat before the fire in the common room, listening as Hermione and Kathryn called out lists of things they needed. They felt slightly guilty, as they had spent ten minutes throwing some clean clothes into a bag.

"Mental." Ron said as they heard the girls go over their packing for the third time. "Bloody mental!"

Nevertheless they were prompt, standing before the stone gargoyle that marked the entrance to Dumbledore's office just as the clocks chimed twelve. Without warning it moved to reveal the revolving spiral staircase and they slowly ascended until they came to the great oak door with the brass knocker shaped like a Griffin. Dumbledore himself was standing before the crackling fireplace and turned to face them as they entered.

"Good, you're all here."

"Excuse me, Professor." Hermione said in a quiet voice. "But, why exactly are we here?"

"Ah, yes Miss Granger, I should probably explain." He moved over to his desk and picked up a piece of parchment that was embossed with what Kathryn recognised as the Black family crest. It was some of the parchment Sirius kept for important correspondence. "I received this letter late last night and it requests that you return home for a few days. I believe there are some people who wish to see you before you begin school once more."

"Why? What's wrong?" Harry asked frantically.

"Nothing, Mr Potter, nothing. I just believe a certain person would like some company. Now, here you are." He offered them a small pot filled with a green powder. "I believe you all know where to go."

They all took a pinch of the Floo powder and, one by one, threw it into the flames that crackled in the grate. One by one they stepped in and cried 'Twelve Grimmauld Place', before disappearing in a flash of green flame. Kathryn spun wildly round when it was her turn, making as graceful an exit as she could into the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. It was empty save for the four of them, a note was scrawled on a piece of parchment lying on the kitchen table. 'Back in ten minutes', it read.

They headed on up to their rooms to put their things away, Kathryn locking the door of hers behind her. She quickly hung up the bag containing her dress and placed the diamond-studded jewellery in a box, which she locked and stowed away in her chest of drawers. Once that was done she unlocked her door again and began to unpack the rest of her bag.

Whilst she was packing jumpers back into her chest of drawers, the door to her room swung open and Kathryn heard the soft sound of paws padding along the thick carpet.

"Hello Sirius." She said with a smile as the form of a great black dog appeared at her knee. The dog gave a gleeful bark and, in an instant, turned back into Sirius.

"This house is too quiet when you're gone." He said, giving her a huge hug.

"Well then, I shall compensate by being stupidly loud while I am here." She said, laughing as Sirius tickled her in the ribs.

Five minutes later, after pulling on some warm clothes, she ran down the stairs and flew out the front door to join Harry, Ron and Hermione who were having a snowball fight. She ran up behind Harry and, jumping onto his back, scrubbed him on the head with a fistful of snow. Harry soon got his revenge, hitting her square on the forehead. For a few blissful moments she felt free, knowing that she was in a place where Lucius Malfoy could never find her. However, she knew that this did not mean that she was free; for she understood that as long as she allowed him to instil fear in her heart, he had won.

Despite the fact that she was safely hidden by the enchantments of Grimmauld Place, he plagued her dreams; appearing around dark corners and from behind closed doors as she slept. She was haunted by what he did to her and she found herself waking up in the dead of night, drenched in icy cold sweat, her scar prickling. She was glad that Harry could not share these dreams, fearful of what they would reveal.

Aside from their obvious connection as siblings, one thing that linked Harry and Kathryn in an unbreakable way was their rare ability to share dreams. They did not share every one, much to their mutual relief. It was the important ones they shared, ones about Voldemort; the dreams that were meant to mean something. All the way through fifth year she had shared Harry's dreams of the long, dark corridor in the Department of Mysteries.

She had even shared his dreams when she had been living in France, causing her considerable confusion. She too had experienced the burning and prickling of her scar; once blacking out part-way through a Quidditch match for no apparent reason. She had never known the reason until Harry explained all the things that had happened to him a few days after she had arrived at 12 Grimmauld Place. As it turned out, at that moment her scar had hurt, Harry had been in divination; asleep and dreaming of Voldemort.

* * *

A/N - Right, the scene that inspired the whole story was that opening dance. The idea just flew into my head as I was listening to my own music and watching the film simultaneously...after that I spent too much time thinking about how they got there, and how such a thing would come about, and this story is the result. Just another few notes though -

The Dress - this is inspired by a piece from Christian Dior's 2007 Haute Couture collection (the 60th Anniversary one), the original is blue and had a fancy pattern on the bodice and strap, but I just wanted something simple and elegant...as (at least in my story) Lucius Malfoy is about simple, not always noticeable, luxury. Of course there are things that mark him as rich from the moment you see him, but there are other smaller things that you have to look hard for that turn 'rich' into obscenely rich.

The Music - The music for their entrance into the Great Hall is meant to sound like the dancing interlude bit from 'Et L'on n'y Peut Rien', from the CD 'Un Tour Ensemble' by Jean Jacques Goldman. It has to be this live version otherwise you don't get the same effect. Similarly, the opening dance is inspired by 'Tournent les Violons' from the same CD. Their dance begins just as the words begin to fade, about 2 minutes or so from the end. That was the piece of music that inspired the whole thing, as that was what I was listening to on the bus ride.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N - We take a trip to the Ministry in this chapter; seeing how they first met and being taken on a journey.

**10/12/09 - CHAPTER REVISED AND UPDATED!!!**

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Their return to school was not so enjoyable, after having spent a marvellous five days with Sirius and the Weasleys. Far too much Firewhisky was consumed on New Year's Eve; Sirius finally putting his family's stores to good use. New Year's Day was spent lazing by the fire, most of them nursing hangovers whilst Mrs. Weasley produced a steady stream of delicious food from the basement kitchen. The train was fairly empty as they journeyed back up to Scotland; many students having remained behind to attend the ball. They had a whole carriage to themselves and they amused themselves by playing games of exploding snap and miniature Wizard chess; feasting on a lunch of turkey sandwiches, sausage rolls, mince pies and Christmas cake that Mrs. Weasley had prepared.

Once they were back, the holiday seemed like a distant memory when faced with the mountains of work the teachers decided to throw at them on their first week back; Snape setting a particularly vindictive essay. McGonagall wasn't nice either, giving them a mountain of reading and two essays, paying no heed to their complaints that they didn't have any major exams that year.

"That doesn't mean you don't have to work, Mr Thomas." She said sternly to Dean on Wednesday.

The Slytherins were also being more annoying than usual. Malfoy had been in a foul mood ever since the ball and was taking every opportunity to try and curse Kathryn between classes. She ended up with a guard made up mainly of DA members who escorted her through the corridors. By the second week of term Malfoy finally gave up, partially because he was sick of going to the hospital wing every other day because one of the DA members' wands had 'slipped' and sent a hex straight at him.

Surrounded by her friends at the beginning of a new year, Kathryn actually dared to hope. Though it was highly improbable, she dared to dream that Lucius Malfoy had actually given up on his quest to try and elicit information about the Order form her. She actually found herself not having to fake a smile, as she was actually happy.

These hopes were dashed, however, halfway through the third week of term at the end of January. They were in the dungeons, nearing the end of their potions lesson when the door creaked open and Mr Malfoy stepped through in his usual arrogant fashion. Her blood seemed to chill in her veins as he walked right past her table. Whatever he was here for, she knew it could not be good.

He headed straight for Snape, who was walking amongst the steaming cauldrons making snide comments about their work. Her stomach contracted horribly as he glanced at her, and she immediately busied herself with her potion; willing that he was not here for some reason connected to her. He had a hurried discussion with Snape before they moved over to where Kathryn was stood. Still she did not look up, slicing her roots furiously as if it would dissuade them from interrupting her work. With a wave of his wand, Snape packed away all her equipment and vanished the potion that was simmering in her cauldron.

"Go on then Potter, out." He said in an annoyed tone, jerking his head towards the door. "But I want an essay on the way potions are used in the Ministry of Magic for when you get back." He continued, oblivious to the puzzled look on her face. Obediently she packed away her books and slung her bag over her shoulder. With one last puzzled glance back at Harry, Ron and Hermione she followed Mr Malfoy out of the dungeon classroom and through the corridors leading to the Entrance Hall.

"You mentioned that you were considering going into the Ministry." He said as they walked. "I have got you a work experience placement there for a few days." He finished as they came out into the deserted Entrance Hall. She had no idea what to say, taken completely by surprise that he had even remembered the conversation. She stood there staring at him, completely gob smacked until he spoke again.

"Now, hurry up and pack a bag." He told her curtly, raising his eyebrows as if he was wondering why she was still there.

She left him standing there whilst she ran up to the Gryffindor common room, changed out of her uniform and threw some things into a bag. She also dashed off a quick note to Harry, leaving it on his bed for him to read later, before running back down through the castle.

She heard the bell go just as they climbed into the Thestral-drawn carriage that was waiting for at the foot of the steps. No sooner had they pulled away he was on her; his hands roving where they wanted, his lips tracing the contours of her face and neck. He would have gone further had they been going anywhere other than a secluded spot from which to apparate. She knew that he would be expecting her to stay with him, and, summoning up every drop of courage she could muster, she spoke.

"I live in London. I'm staying at my house." She said rather quickly. "I'll see you tomorrow at nine, at the visitors' entrance." She did not give him the chance to reply before she apparated straight to Grimmauld Place.

She reappeared with a small 'pop' in her top floor bedroom. Throwing her bag onto her four-poster bed she opened the door and walked slowly downstairs, looking for Sirius. He was not in the library or upstairs drawing room, not that she had expected him to be.

Continuing on, she found no signs of life; the rooms eerily still. She had never really spent much time at the house when it wasn't the holidays, and hadn't realised that it could get so quiet when the Order wasn't having meetings. She finally found Sirius sitting alone in the kitchen, absentmindedly fiddling with a sandwich that was sitting on a plate before him; his fingers methodically pulling it to pieces.

"You know, for an ex-fugitive you lead a pretty dull life." She said with a smile from the doorway. Sirius jerked to life, automatically reaching for his wand, and turning in his chair to see where the sound had come from. "The whole illusion is just ruined for me now!" She went on, laughing a little as she spoke. Sirius just stared at her with a stunned silence.

"What are you doing here?" he asked with a confused expression on his face.

"I've got an unexpected week off school."

"They suspended you?" he said in disbelief.

"Yeah, I really shouldn't have forced Snape to swallow one of Fred and George's fireworks." She said in a serious tone, looking slightly ashamed. "But Madam Pomfrey says he'll live, although his stomach might never be the same again."

"You did what!" He asked incredulously, anger beginning to creep into his voice. Kathryn, however, could no longer keep her face straight and burst into fits of laughter.

"Relax, relax. Snape, unfortunately, is fine." Sirius just looked even more confused. "I'm just pulling your leg, don't panic!" Sirius finally saw the funny side and broke into laughter himself, remembering well the days when he and James would taunt Snape at every possible moment.

"So, what are you really doing here?" he asked as she sat down at the table with him.

"I've got a week of work experience at the Ministry. I mentioned it to one of the Governors at the ball over Christmas and he has organised a placement for me." Kathryn explained.

"Who?"

"I don't know, can't remember his name. I mean, I only mentioned it in passing." She lied. "I just got the letter this morning."

"Any idea where you'll be working?"

"No. I just have to turn up at the visitors' entrance at nine tomorrow." This at least was true.

"You'll have to pop in and see Arthur. He's been working on another modification for your iPod. You really shouldn't encourage him you know." Sirius said with a smile, knowing Mr Weasley's passion for all things Muggle-made. "Molly doesn't like it."

"Oh, let him have his fun, Sirius. I don't mind. He's the reason why I can take it to Hogwarts." It was true, if she hadn't allowed Mr Weasley to tinker with it, she would never have been able to use it in Hogwarts because the huge amount of magic emanating from the castle interfered with anything electronic.

They had all questioned her when she had come back to Grimmauld Place with the small, white, Muggle contraption. Mr Weasley had gotten very excited over the small instruction manual and had nearly fainted when he had seen the gleaming white plug. His many years spent tinkering with Muggle artefacts made it easy to remove the need to charge the machine and Kathryn swiftly donated he plug to his collection. After that, it was just a simple matter of devising a manner to get the music she wanted onto it. After much trial and error, this involved going to a Muggle music shop under the cover of the invisibility cloak, and finding the music she wanted. One swift incantation later and the music was hers.

They still didn't understand why she wanted it though, despite finding the idea of having thousands of songs in her pocket quite fascinating. Her answer was simply that she liked music, which was half true. She wanted it because music was an escape. With the little white headphones blocking out all other noise, her mind could wander and her imagination run wild. Of late it was becoming more of necessity than folly as her mind was dogged by agonizing memories and the accompanying guilt.

"Well, seeing as you're here, lets go out for lunch. As you can see I don't really have much in the house." He indicated his lone sandwich.

Sirius treated her to lunch in Diagon Alley and she in turn took him to Florean Fortescue's ice cream parlour where they sat with steaming drinks just watching people go by. Unable to resist, she did pop into a few shops in search of suitable outfits for the coming week.

That night was spent in ten hours of blissful, blank sleep. She lay curled beneath her duvet, completely content, with the knowledge that he could not find her here as she lay beneath her warm duvet.

The next morning she dressed in her smartest jeans, a fitted blue shirt and a boyfriend-style blazer. She gave Sirius a quick hug before grabbing a piece of toast and walking out the front door, looking like any normal person on their way to work; except for the fact that she was not working in any normal place.

Not long after leaving the house she disapparated and reappeared in a dingy alley lined with bins and containing a single, old style red telephone box. Before long there was another small 'pop' and Lucius Malfoy appeared, looking his usual, haughty self. They did not say a word as they squeezed themselves into the phone box and announced themselves to the cool female voice that greeted them. Once a small silver visitor's pass appeared from where change normally would, they shot below the surface; rapidly descending many levels before arriving in the vast reception hall of the Ministry of Magic.

They passed the giant golden Fountain of Magical Brethren with its gleaming gold witch, wizard, centaur, goblin and house-elf in the middle. Digging inside her pocket Kathryn produced a single gold galleon, which she dropped into the water. She always did this whenever she visited, on her way in and on the way back out. She would never forget the way the golden statues had come to life and saved both hers and Harry's lives by blocking Voldemort's deadly spells when they had attempted to 'rescue' Sirius in their fifth year.

Of course, it had been thanks to some quick spell-work of Dumbledore's, but she still felt like she owed them something. She could still see it all vividly, even though she had been near death at the time; her life ebbing away as Sirius held her in his arms, trying to get her out and back to the safety of Hogwarts. She could see faint marks on the wall where spells had struck and scratches on the wooden floor from one of the statues exploding when Voldemort hit it with a curse.

On either side of the hall wizards and witches were coming and going through the fireplaces, flashes of green appearing every few seconds, and memos were zooming through the air on the way to their recipients. They stopped first at the security desk where her wand was weighed, doing her best to ignore the young wizard who spent more time gawking at her forehead than looking at her wand, before moving on into the crowd waiting for the elevators. Here she got even more looks, several people nudging their colleagues and pointing at her scar. Most, however, had their noses buried in the Daily Prophet and did not care to notice. They ended up on the fifth floor where they were met by a friendly looking witch who was going to look after her while she was there. Much to Kathryn's relief, she seemed capable of talking to her face and not her scar.

As she rode up and down in the rattling, golden elevators; being given a tour of every floor she was forcibly reminded of her first visit to the Ministry. It was on the day of Harry's disciplinary hearing, four summers ago. They had left without her and, with the directions of Sirius; she had made her own way there and talked her way past the security guard. She had first gone up to Mr Weasley's floor to find them and was informed, discreetly by Kingsley, that the venue had been moved down to one of the old courtrooms. Instead of taking the elevator, she pelted down the many flights of stairs at full speed, nearly knocking down a wizard piled high with scrolls of parchment.

She arrived on the ninth level, skidding to a stop on the highly polished floor a metre or so from two important looking people. Turning, she had found Harry and Mr Weasley behind her, looking in surprise at the two figures and then at her. As it had turned out, the portly figure had been Cornelius Fudge and the other Lucius Malfoy. She was completely unaware of this, however, as she stood panting slightly in the corridor wearing only a thin summer top and a pair of very low cut jeans. They had stood there, frozen for a moment, shocked by this new arrival. Fudge and Malfoy had obviously no idea about who she was; her long hair falling over her forehead, concealing her telltale scar.

"I don't believe we've met." Fudge had been the first one to break the stunned silence.

"That's because we haven't." She had replied in a frank, half-sarcastic tone. "Now, let me guess." She had continued. "You," she pointed at Fudge, "you look dressed for work, slightly official. And you," she had then turned to Mr Malfoy, casting a roving eye over his luxuriously crafted clothes and cane, "well, you're just rich." Fudge finally offered his hand to her.

"Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic." She had shaken his hand politely before turning to Mr Malfoy who also took her hand.

"Lucius Malfoy." He gave her hand a small kiss, fixing her with a slightly puzzled, but very interested, look.

"And you are?" Fudge had finally asked. Kathryn chose that moment to sweep her hair back from her face where it was concealing her scar. Harry and Mr Weasley had both seen their eyes widen in shock as they got their first glimpse of the lightning bolt shaped mark that they thought only the boy standing ten feet behind her possessed.

"Kathryn Potter. Nice to meet you" She had introduced herself with no sense of formality, as if she was not special at all. Fudge had gone spare, not believing it at first and then demanding to talk to Dumbledore. Mr Malfoy had remained silent, allowing this information to sink in, and finding himself oddly fascinated by this girl.

When she had a free moment, she nipped up to the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects where she found Mr Weasley reading through a file beneath his poster detailing the layout of a plug. There was no one else in the office and, after closing the door, she handed him her iPod. He pulled out his wand and muttered something under his breath; a jet of green light shooting out of his wand and hitting the small white object in his hand. After another few taps he handed it back to her with a satisfied smile on his face.

"There, you shouldn't have any more space problems now."

"Thanks Mr. Weasley." She said, slipping it back into its case. "I'd better get back." She gave him a small wave and disappeared down the corridor.

When she had her break for lunch she again went off and found the Auror headquarters, knowing that it was somewhere where people wouldn't stare at her so much. Tonks was the only one in but she was more than pleased to see Kathryn, admitting she was slightly bored on her own. Her hair was midnight blue today, styled into a choppy bob, a change from her usual bubblegum-pink. They talked about school, Quidditch, and her year-old marriage to Lupin. In a hushed voice, she told Kathryn that she and Lupin had talked about having a baby.

"He doesn't really want to," she sighed, looking downcast, "he's worried it'll be a Werewolf, just like him."

"I'm sure it wouldn't." Kathryn reassured her.

"Well, in any case, we're not going to bother trying until this blasted thing's over." She nodded at the wall behind her where a large poster informed them of the precautions to be taken against Voldemort and the Death Eaters. "No sense having a child when we might not even make it out alive."

"We will." This time, when Kathryn spoke, she was confident.

Kingsley arrived after a while, the wall behind his desk covered in a large map and plotted with possible locations Voldemort might be using. It also had names of some escaped Death Eaters and their last-known locations. It also had possible Death Eaters up there, although Kathryn noted that Lucius Malfoy's name was not amongst them. From what she had heard at Order meetings, they had been warned by Fudge to lay off such a rich and important man. His old claim of acting under the Imperius curse still stood after all these years. Technically, they had no concrete proof of him being involved with the Death Eaters.

Kathryn remembered when that wall had been covered with pictures of Sirius. Even though Kingsley, Tonks and several other Aurors knew Sirius was innocent and more importantly, where he was, they had kept a map up to throw others off the scent. They had also engineered false sightings in far-flung corners of the globe. This deception, however, had become unnecessary once she had helped prove his innocence and Voldemort was now the greatest threat to the wizarding world.

On Friday, she found herself working in the Minister's office. It occupied an entire floor, with his various secretaries in the outer office. She spent a majority of the morning being lectured by Percy Weasley on the proper procedure and how his horrendously complex filing system worked. Privately she laughed at him as, every time Fudge poked his head round his office door, he sprang to attention. He also seemed quite put out when Fudge greeted her amicably, without any trace of formality.

She remembered well the day that she, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Neville and Luna were summoned to Fudge's office along with Dumbledore, Moody, Lupin and Mr Weasley. Sirius was also present; carrying Kathryn for she was still weak from the force of Bellatrix Lestrange's spell. They had proceeded to tell Sirius' story, starting on the night Voldemort had killed Harry and Kathryn's parents. Fudge had listened patiently, although they could all see the disbelief in his eyes. However, thanks to the events of a week previously, he had no choice but to officially pardon Sirius for he himself had seen Voldemort and Peter Pettigrew in the Ministry.

Once she had returned from lunch, she settled herself behind an empty desk in the back corner of the large room and began to summarise a file into a two-page memo for the Minister. She heard Percy spring to his feet yet again as someone left Fudge's office, but did not realise who it was until a shadow appeared over her piece of parchment. Looking up, she saw Mr Malfoy standing before her desk.

"Might I have a word?" he asked, not expecting a reply. She stood and quietly followed him out to the corridor containing the many elevators. She did not speak, waiting for him to explain. He regarded her for a moment, and she shifted uneasily. She was dressed in a smart pair of black dress trousers, a matching waistcoat and a loose white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Her hair was loosely pinned up in a chignon and she looked far too elegant to be working in an office.

"I need you to be back here in the Atrium at seven o'clock tonight."

"Are you going to elaborate as to why? I might have plans you know." She said with a hint of apprehension in her tone.

"No." He replied with a touch of mystery. "But pack for somewhere hot."

"Anything in particular?" he did not reply as people emerged from one of the elevators and waited until they had gone into the outer office before resuming.

"Elegant. Enough for a few days away." He reached out his hand and tucked a stray lock of her black hair behind her ear. "And something nice for me as well." He whispered in her ear in a lower, more sinister tone. Without another word he swept into one of the waiting elevators. Her stomach clenched into a tight ball and she fought the urge to vomit as she watched him disappear out of sight.

When she got back to Grimmauld Place that evening she hurriedly fabricated a story about being invited away on a trip, hoping that he would accept that as a reason to be away for a few days. She explained this to Sirius before rushing upstairs to pack; throwing several outfits into her bag in the hope that at least one would be right.

Sirius was slightly reluctant to let her go, saying that she shouldn't be expected to be able to pack up and leave at the drop of a hat as it was far too dangerous. She scolded him for this between mouthfuls of her hurried dinner, arguing that it was all part of the experience and she wouldn't be in too much danger as it was an unannounced trip. After checking her bag for a final time, making sure he did not see what she had packed in the way of nightclothes, she gave him a quick hug and a peck on the cheek before apparating back to the Ministry just before seven.

The atrium was all but deserted when she arrived, the wizard behind the security desk the only one there. She stood by the fountain to wait, dropping another Galleon into the crystalline water. There was a small 'pop' as someone apparated and she turned to face whoever had arrived. It was, as she had expected, Mr Malfoy who was also clutching an expensive looking travel bag. He also held, for some strange reason, a slightly worn soft toy in the shape of a rabbit. She realised it was a Portkey the moment he offered it to her. She took hold of one of its ears and she heard a cool voice say 'Seven pm Portkey to Dubai'. She felt the small jerk behind her navel, her feet left the polished wood floor and everything disappeared in a whirl of colour.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N - This used to be one chapter, being merged with chapter 6 but that turned out to be a bit too long! Here, the voyage is continued; she is publicly seen with him, she visits the Manor again and the lies and deception grow deeper. _**And aver a few revisions it is now about 2000 words longer....whoops!!**_

**10/12/09 - CHAPTER REVISED AND UPDATED**

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Her feet hit solid ground only a few moments later, her knees buckling from the force and leaving her sprawled on the hard ground. The first thing that hit her, after the paving stones, was the heat and she swiftly regretted remaining in her jeans. As he was apparently not going to help her up, she pulled herself to her feet and brushed the dust off her clothes. It was only when she pulled her hair back off her face that she realised where they were. They were standing on a deserted pavement, looking at the towering structure of one of the most famous hotels in the world.

Shaped like a sail, she knew that Muggles only gained access to the larger building that faced the city. The wizarding side of the hotel was thinner than its Muggle counterpart, catering for a smaller clientele, but it was still effectively a mirror image. The tip of the man-made island, where the hotel was situated, was fenced off and clearly marked as private property and something told her that Muggles would obey that rule meticulously.

The moment they stepped onto the deep blue carpet that led up to the entrance, they were met by a porter in a smart blue uniform who relieved them of their bags and led them towards the magnificent, plainly wizarding doorway. Flutterby bushes, cut into elegant spirals and waving in the light breeze, framed the glass and silver doors which swung open as they approached. The reception was equally as magnificent, with plush armchairs in various shades of blue and cream set in small clusters in front of the panoramic windows. Tiny silver lights illuminating the free rooms were on a board behind the desk and had a smiling witch seated before it. The great silver clock on the wall told Kathryn that they had gone forward four hours, as it was eleven o'clock at night.

Whilst Mr. Malfoy spoke to the witch at reception, she walked around the room; running her hands over the furniture, admiring the artwork on display and gazing at the view. She could hear the faint noise of a bar somewhere off to her right; conversation and the chink of glasses reaching her ears. Looking upwards, she could see right to the top of the building; the rooms situated on landings as opposed to floors. She head the sound of keys being handed over and, if she had any suspicion of anything untoward, the witch kept it to herself as they were shown to the glass elevators.

The elevator stopped on one of the topmost floors and the porter showed them in. Kathryn was stunned; the room was massive. In fact, it was at least three rooms with a huge balcony. On closer inspection it had two large en-suite rooms, both with queen-size beds covered in soft, richly coloured sheets. The rooms were either side of the expansive living area with its large sofas, plush carpets and attached dining room. The balcony, offering panoramic views of the Persian Gulf, stretched the entire length of the suite and had several comfortable-looking chairs waiting for occupants.

"Are you quite done staring?" he asked dryly as the porter left.

"Yes." She snapped out of her trance-like state and picked up her bag; hurrying into the room on the right and locking the door behind her.

She took her time to pack her things away, hanging each garment up to stop it creasing. In an effort to get rid of her nerves, and the tiredness of a long day at the Ministry, she took a long, cool shower and then just sat on her bed and admired the view.

Once she reappeared, refreshed but albeit still uneasy, it was past midnight and he was nowhere to be seen. She took a few minutes to look at the room properly; poking through drawers and smelling the flower arrangements that were dotted about. To tell the truth, the interior of the hotel had actually quite surprised her. She had seen pictures of the Muggle half and it was the epitome of tackiness; far too much gold leaf and baroque styling that was severely out of place in such a climate. From what she had seen this evening, the wizarding side was the complete opposite; a tasteful display of understated opulence. It truly was spectacular; everything she would ever have expected of him, and she was astounded that he was sharing it with her.

She had to admit that she quite liked it.

Venturing outside to the balcony; she leant against the railing, clad only in a small nightdress crafted from clinging indigo silk and lace, enjoying the balmy breeze that blew through her damp hair. The moon hung full and brilliant over the inky black sea. Another set of footsteps soon joined her, however, thoroughly spoiling the illusion.

"Beautiful." He murmured in her ear, slipping his arms around her supple waist and pulling her towards him.

"Me or the view?" she shot back dryly.

"Both, except I only get to have one all to myself." He replied, bringing his head down to kiss her neck. "I trust that you are still resolved to tell me nothing." He paused for a moment, waiting for her reply. She gave none, except a resigned nod of her head.

"Oh well," he sighed, although he sounded far from disappointed, "I would dissuade you from your choice, but why deny myself such a pleasure?" his hands slipped the silk of her nightgown up around her waist.

The pit of her stomach gave an awful lurch, as if she was about to vomit; her brain telling her to run. But she didn't. She had learnt during the summer that saying no, or even trying to impede his advances, was a mistake that only ended in pain. She knew that he would only force himself upon her; using her roughly and harshly as opposed to the usual tender caresses that she, to her disgust, had gotten accustomed to.

Instead, she allowed herself to be led back into the room; once again letting him use her as he wanted. And, yet again, she lay alongside him; silently hating herself for enjoying what he gave her. Waking up beside him an hour or so before dawn, she did her best not to rouse him as she tiptoed back to her room; wrapped in one of the richly coloured sheets. She collapsed onto her bed, closing her eyes and welcoming the empty black void of sleep.

She awoke quite late the next morning but was still showered and dressed before Mr. Malfoy was even awake. She scrawled a quick note on the hotel stationery, grabbed a key and went down to breakfast alone. The breakfast room was grand to say the least, with every kind of breakfast food available for diners. Taking a table on the outdoor terrace, making sure that she was facing away form most of the patrons, she ordered toast and tea and sat back to wait. Although it was only nine o'clock it was already warm with the same balmy breeze wafting through the air.

Looking around her, she could tell that everyone around her was considerably rich, and she began to feel slightly uncomfortable and out of place. She finished her breakfast quickly after that, leaving most of her toast untouched. As an afterthought, she made her way back to the spread of food and, after flashing a dazzling smile to one of the waiters, she grabbed a pastry and a small bowl of fruit salad to take back up to the room.

He was out of bed by the time she returned, her croissant clutched between her teeth as she pulled the small silver key out of the lock. He was lounging on one of the sofas, reading the morning edition of the Daily Prophet. She ignored him and walked straight past him onto the balcony, sitting on one of the pale chairs and looking out over the ocean whilst picking at her croissant.

"Good morning." He wandered out to join her.

"Hmmm." She said by way of reply, starting on her fruit salad. There was a light knock on the door and he disappeared back inside to answer it. This was followed by a slight clattering as someone entered and left what sounded like a breakfast tray, before the door closed again. He reappeared with a silver tray laden with coffee, toast, fruit salad and pastries and set it on the table.

"Help yourself." He said, pouring coffee and picking up a pain au chocolat. She pretended not to be hungry for a few minutes, but eventually relented.

"I'll have some coffee." It felt strange to have him pouring her a drink, to be sharing such an informal meal, but she supposed there were stranger things in life.

"Milk and sugar?" he asked.

"No," she shook her head, "I take it black." He looked quite surprised at this, as if he hadn't expected someone so young to drink black coffee. She took another pastry after a few moments, tearing it apart as she stared off into the distance

"So, why are we here exactly?" she finally asked after several minutes of silence.

"A Quidditch match."

"Quidditch!" She said incredulously. "The only match on today is Puddlemere United against the Winbourne Wasps, and that's being played in Wales." After this comment, he was in two minds as to whether he should reveal the surprise or not.

"It's a qualifier for the World Cup, England versus Australia if you must know." He finally gave up.

"Seriously?" she spluttered, nearly choking on a mouthful of hot coffee.

"Yes, seriously. And it was meant to be a surprise."

"Wow." She said quietly. "Not what I expected."

"I can see that."

"Why?" she asked after a few moments pause.

"You're far better company than my son." He shrugged, giving her a look that made her stomach churn.

"Well, I suppose the reason makes up for the company." Her voice was cold as she spoke and she did not meet his eye, standing up and walking back inside. She left, not because she was angry, but because she had no idea how to react to such a gesture. In the cool of her room, she changed into her swimwear and pulled on a long red sundress before grabbing her book from the bedside table.

"I'm going to the beach." She informed him, sticking her head around the doors that opened out to the balcony. He was immersed in the newspaper, settled comfortably in the shade.

"We have to leave at three, so make sure you're back." He did not look at her as he spoke.

"Ok," she hesitated a moment at the door, "and thank you, by the way." She was gone before he could reply, the door clicking shut behind her and leaving him to ponder the fact that she had thanked him; a gesture he had never expected.

She spent the rest of the morning, and a portion of the afternoon, lounging beneath a parasol on the section of private beach that the hotel kept for its guests. Clad in a plain black bikini, she got through several more chapters of her book whilst being served cool, refreshing drinks by the hotel staff. The sea was pleasant to say the least; cooling after the searing heat of the sun and for a while she walked back and forth along the beach, waist deep in the crystal clear water.

At around half past twelve she was brought a light lunch that she had not ordered, but she was sure that she knew who had. The food was sumptuous, as she would have expected from such a lavish establishment, but it also seemed to be something of a peace offering. Once she had eaten she was just content to bask. It was nice to have the warmth of the sun after the cold Scottish winter, but she was careful not to go so far as to ruin her naturally pale complexion. She retired back upstairs just before two, the cool, softly-lit corridors a shock from the bright heat outside.

"Thank you for lunch." She called once the door had closed behind her. Getting no response, she set her book down and meandered through the suite. She could hear footsteps coming from his room and assumed that he had not heard; the room was disproportionately large after all.

"I said, thank you for lunch." She called out again as she walked through the door.

"You're welcome." she lifted her gaze and stopped dead in her tracks. He was standing there, half dressed, with a white towel dangling from his hand.

"Sorry!" she jolted backwards and lowered her eyes, her face flushing deep red.

"Yes?"

"It's just that, well, I…" she tailed off, apparently unable to speak. Her eyes flicked up to look at him, but all she seemed able to do was stare at his chest. He chuckled and raised an eyebrow, prompting her to regain her senses. "I'm just off to get ready, I thought you should know." She finished her sentence quickly and practically ran from the room.

Doing her best not to think, she jumped straight in the shower and scrubbed and scrubbed; not just to get the salt off of her skin and out of her hair, but also a vain attempt to try and scour away the thoughts she's been having. She leant against the shower wall, crashing her fists against the tiles in frustration. She had seen him in far greater stages of undress, but she was ashamed because when she saw him standing there, she had wanted him. Wiping the tears from her cheeks, she switched the water from hot to cold and forced herself to stand beneath the icy jets until she was calm.

Shivering, she dried herself off quickly; running a brush through her hair to control the waves, before making the decision between the two outfits she had packed.

She donned what she hoped was an elegant, yet understated dress for the occasion. It was black with a large, empire neckline that was slightly angular, starting at her shoulders and emphasising her curves. On the front of the dress, it looked like parts had been cut away to reveal sparkly fabric beneath. It was just a small triangle over half her bust, and then another, larger arrow-shaped portion that went across her waist and round the back of her dress where it fanned out in long pleats.

It clung to her every curve, from her shoulders to her knees; emphasising her slim waist and long legs in a way no man could resist. To this she added a pair of scarily high, elegant wedges that elevated her a good six inches above her normal height. When she exited her room, satisfied with her appearance, Mr Malfoy was already waiting for her; lounging casually on the large sofa. He was fully dressed now, in his usual expensive black suit, and had a large, dark blue velveteen box sat on the glass table before him.

"Well," she said, giving him a small twirl, "is this good enough for a Quidditch match?"

"You look exquisite." He said in an approving voice, privately wondering how she could manage to walk in her shoes. "There's something missing though."

"Let me guess, the something that is missing is in that box. You know you have got to get more imaginative." He did not reply, he only smiled.

Getting to his feet, box in hand, he stood before her. Her heart fluttered in anticipation as his hand slowly lifted the lid. She fought the temptation to pinch herself, just to check that she wasn't dreaming, as he presented her with one of the largest gems she had ever seen. It was a huge, pear shaped diamond, the colour of the deepest ocean. She guessed it was just slightly larger than a prune, but infinitely more impressive then the dried fruit she compared it to. With the pointed end downwards, a row of smaller diamonds snaked up the left edge, following the curve of the platinum setting right up to where it would sit at the back of her neck.

Lifting it carefully from its box, he opened the almost invisible hinge, and slipped it around her neck. The diamond sat square on her breastbone, the platinum cool to the touch. Unlike many necklaces, the platinum did not form a complete band. Instead, the platinum curved around the back of her neck and finished just above her collarbone. As if this wasn't enough, he slid a matching bracelet around her wrist and threaded earrings into her ears. They were all set with the same, inky blue stones as well as copious numbers of white diamonds.

"You can't be serious?" she said, slightly breathless from shock.

"Do I look like I'm joking?" he cocked an eyebrow, daring her to doubt him.

She stood before the mirror for a moment, admiring them and the way they sparkled in the light, before following him out of the door.

People could not help but stare as they walked through the atrium, most eyes directed towards her. Even Lucius could not help but steal a glance; drinking in her slender form and congratulating himself on his prize. His car was waiting right outside the doors, sleek and dark, with the driver holding the passenger door open ready. The interior was cool and spacious, a sharp contrast to the dry heat outside, and bore all the hallmarks of wealth. Sinking into the comfortable seat, Mr. Malfoy nodded to the driver and they set off on their way.

She watched form behind the darkened windows as they drove through the busy Muggle areas. The roads were congested to say the least, but that seemed to have no effect on the average speed. Mopeds whizzed between the cars and people seemed to be perfectly content darting between the traffic to get to the opposite side of the road. Unsurprisingly, their car easily matched the speed of the others around it; weaving through the traffic with significantly more ease that its Muggle counterparts and squeezing through the narrowest of alleyways.

It soon took them out along the coast, passing the thriving muggle tourist hubs with their towers of mirrored glass, before turning off the main road and onto a little used road of dusty tarmac. She was beginning to wonder if they were going the right way, as settlements became few and far between, until a large oasis appeared on the horizon. She could tell at once that this was no ordinary oasis you would find in the middle of a desert, as it was far too big.

As they got closer, she began to see lines of tents through the trees, many of them with English or Australian flags waving from the top. Smoke of various colours rose up in the air, some from open fires and others through chimneypots that protruded through the canvas. Flags were strung between the trees, fluttering in the breeze, and she could sense a generally jovial atmosphere. Beyond the trees, the stadium rose upwards; draped in dark blue banners and shimmering in the late afternoon light.

They were driven past the rows of tents to a more secluded area where a large pavilion had been erected close to the stadium. Stepping out of the car, they walked through the dappled shade towards the white structure. The pavilion seemed to have been the venue for pre-match drinks, as there were glasses left behind on the tables. As they passed, she helped herself to a pair of delicate Omnioculars, wrought from what appeared to be gold, that were sat on a small table.

Following the canopied path that led away from the pavilion, they arrived at a smaller, more discrete entrance to the stadium where they were stopped by what she assumed to be a Ministry wizard. He diligently checked the two tickets Mr. Malfoy handed over before nodding them on upwards. Once they reached the top of that staircase, they were met by another Ministry witch who checked their tickets for a second time. Once satisfied, she unhooked a blue velvet rope and allowed them to step onto a thinner, more elegant spiral staircase. As soon as their feet hit the steps, the whole staircase began to revolve and carry them upwards to the very top.

What she had assumed to be the top box actually turned out to be more like the top floor. It was a akin to a large balcony, furnished with tables of food, comfy seating and many waiters weaving their way through the crowd bearing silver trays of champagne. Even though they were so high, the breeze was pleasant; fluttering through the white canopy that shielded them from the sun. It was full of people, all of whom looked important. There seemed to be representatives from both sides milling around as well as those fortunate enough to have the best tickets.

Both teams were also here, posing for photographs with the various dignitaries. She hadn't realised that she was standing alone until she turned her head to find empty space next to her; Mr. Malfoy already mingling with the crowd and greeting various people whom she assumed to be important. She felt rather cut off, like she had done at breakfast, for she could not make out a single familiar face. After all, this was not the life she lived and it was not a life she had actively sought. Her life was one of secrecy, not of society. She grabbed a crystal flute from a passing waiter and moved, with some uncertainty, into the crowd.

She listened to snippets of conversation as she wandered, nibbling on a few hors d'oeuvres that were also being offered round by the smartly dressed waiters. She did get some looks; eyes flicking to her scar as she passed by. Opening her bag, she withdrew a fan that had been a gift from one of her friends back in France, and began to waft a light breeze over her face. The bright colours were a stark contrast against her black of her dress. Without really looking where she was going, she meandered forwards to the edge of the box with the intention of doing a spot of people watching with her Omnioculars. This was soon forgotten, however, as she bumped into a portly man carrying a lime green bowler hat.

"Why, Miss Potter!" Cornelius Fudge exclaimed, a look of complete astonishment on his face. "Whatever are you doing here?"

"Oh, excuse me Minister!" she apologised hurriedly, closing her fan. "Why I'm here," she struggled to come up with a reason, "well, I'm-" he cut her off before she could finish.

"Never mind, never mind." He said, waving away her attempt at explanation. "Well, you must join my party. We can't have you standing all on your own now, can we?" he insisted jovially.

"I'm terribly sorry Minister." She replied with a smile. "I mean, thank you very much for your offer, but I'm already here as someone's guest." She supposed that was a plausible explanation.

"Oh." Fudge looked slightly shocked. "Who?"

"She's here with me, Fudge." Mr. Malfoy appeared at her elbow before she could answer the Minister's last question.

"Ah, Lucius." Fudge said with a smile, greeting him affably with a shake of his hand. Despite what she knew about Fudge's refusal to see Lucius Malfoy as anything other than a pillar of society, she still could not believe that he was on such good terms with a Death Eater. "Family all well?" he enquired.

"Oh yes. Narcissa's at a spa in Italy at the moment, with a few of her friends. And obviously Draco's at school." He informed him, by way of explanation as to why Kathryn was his guest.

"I'm rather surprised that you didn't bring your son, I believe he plays Quidditch, doesn't he?"

"Yes, well. He may play Quidditch but his school marks do not warrant such a privilege." He replied in a curt tone, the lie more than plausible.

"Ah. Well, they have to learn." Fudge shook his head in the manner of a knowing parent.

"As you know, Miss Potter is doing work experience at the Ministry this week and I know her to be a great Quidditch fan." He gave her a smile before looking back at the Minister.

"How could I refuse?" Kathryn interjected, sipping her champagne, doing her best to sound content.

Once this was over, she found herself being introduced to most of the people there; Fudge almost dragging her around behind him. She was introduced to the Australian Minister for Magic, the Ministers from the United Arab Emirates and Dubai as well as both of the teams. The women there stared at her in a mixture of awe and jealousy; many of them pointing towards the jewel that hung about her neck. The men just stared.

At the mere mention of her name, the photographers were soon hovering nearby. She posed for photos with both the teams; the England squad all shaking her hand as if she would bring them good luck. Then it was the turn of the Ministers, the photographer insisting of doing separate ones of her with them individually and then one group photo. Then it was Kathryn on her own, then with Fudge and Mr. Malfoy.

She wandered over to the edge of the box once they were finished, in quiet conversation with Mr. Malfoy, but noticed one photographer still lurking nearby. Knowing that he only wanted a photo, they turned and smiled. The camera clicked emitting a puff of purple smoke and the photographer scuttled off.

The stands below them had started to fill up and, after a final few words with Fudge, they took their seats in the front row. The view was spectacular. They were situated right on the centre line, offering them an uninterrupted view of both ends of the stadium. The commentator's magically magnified voice filled the stadium and the great advertisement board that had just been advertising '_Quality Quidditch Supplies – for all your Quidditch needs'_ in Diagon Alley was wiped clean and was replaced by the golden words _Australia 0_,_ England 0_. The teams sped out, the commentator announcing their names in rapid succession; the England squad in red robes and the Australians in blue with stars on the front. Unlike the final, there were no displays of things to do with either country and the match was soon underway.

It was like nothing Kathryn had ever seen before. She had thought that the pace of their Quidditch matches had been sometimes difficult to keep up with. But this, this was on an entirely different level; the players becoming red and blue blurs shooting round the stadium. She found herself using the replay function on her Omnioculars just so she could see what had actually happened. She also began to make mental notes for her own team with new moves and strategies for them to practice.

She liked the way the Australian chasers flew in a circle, passing the Quaffle between them as they moved in a Ferris wheel-like motion towards the England goal hoops. Although she was officially supporting England, she was disappointed when this goal failed to get in; feeling they deserved some points for pulling off that difficult manoeuvre.

Half and hour into the game, Australia were thirty points ahead and there was still no sign of the Snitch. England were now trailing seventy points to one hundred.

"Come on, come on." She said through gritted teeth as she watched the England chasers try to wrestle the Quaffle back from the Australian side. "You've got a Firebolt." She went on as the chasers finally got possession. "You should've caught the Snitch by now."

"This is international Quidditch." Mr. Malfoy quietly reminded her. "It's a bit harder than what you play."

"Yes that's all very well," she replied in a terse voice, "but if I can see the Snitch hovering by the goal hoop then why can't they?" she nodded in the direction of the England goal hoops where the Snitch was fluttering. He smiled, his eyes fixing on the Snitch before it fluttered away again.

"Anyway, Harry, Ron and I trained for a week with the England under-18 squad last summer. I know how hard international Quidditch is." They turned their focus back to the match where England were starting to pull back, the crowd roaring as the Quaffle soared through the Australian goal hoop.

The entire stadium went silent as the Australian seeker dropped into a steep dive, closely followed by his English counterpart.

"The Snitch has been sighted!" The commentator cried out. It seemed as if the entire crowd was on the edge of its seat, Kathryn was actually perched on the edge of her blue velvet and gilt chair; not sure which team she wanted to win. She fixed her Omnioculars on the two seekers, seeing the flashes of many other people doing the same, and waited with bated breath.

It was over in an instant. The England seeker, a red-haired girl just out of the under-21 squad, snatched the Snitch from underneath the Australian seeker's nose and pulled up into the air; waving it in triumph. The Australian seeker, however, ended up in a crumpled pile on the pitch. The stadium exploded with noise; red, blue and white confetti showering through the stands. Flags were waving, horns were blowing and people were shooting showers of sparks into the air with their wands. Kathryn was on her feet too; clapping and cheering as the team piled on top of their Seeker in mid air in their rush to congratulate her.

Slowly, both teams made their way to the top box; the Australian seeker being supported by two of his team mates, still dazed from his collision with the pitch. One of the English chasers was also being held up by a fellow player, having been hit in the leg by a Bludger, a grimace of pain etched on his face. They were congratulated by both Cornelius Fudge and the Australian Minister for magic and then by the various people seated in the top box. The photographer had reappeared and small puffs of purple smoke were soon wafting above the crowd.

The jubilant England team were quick to drag her into a photo with them all; laughing and smiling and dubbing her their lucky charm. The cheers of the crowd were still ringing around the stadium as she was pulled onto a broomstick. The next thing she knew, the chaser whose broom she was on was kicking off and she was and being flown round the stadium as the England team took several victory laps.

She laughed as the wind whipped through her hair, hanging onto the back of the chaser's robes; the raucous cheers filling her ears. Eventually they slowed, landing back in the top box with a soft thud where they were once more surrounded by people offering their congratulations. She could see Fudge conversing with Mr. Malfoy at the edge the crowd and, once she had swept her hair back into place and rearranged her dress, she fought her way out towards them.

"Well, I'll see you then Minister." He shook Fudge's hand. "You too Miss Potter, I do hope you'll join the Minister and myself for dinner tomorrow." She nodded, knowing that she didn't really have a choice.

"Of course."

"Excellent!" Fudge beamed. "I'll see you tomorrow then, Miss Potter." He took her hand and bowed slightly. "Lucius." With a final nod to Mr. Malfoy, he bustled back over to the England team.

"Shall we?" Mr. Malfoy swept his hand towards the doorway and, although he had voiced it as a question, she knew that meant it was time to leave. Politely, he let her go first, descending down the spiral staircase and back out to the ground below where their car was waiting.

She shivered as she slid down into her seat, the car cold compared to the balmy warmth of the evening. With the excitement of the match behind them, she suddenly felt quite tired; leaning against the window, not really aware of what they were passing, even though she was gazing out into the distance.

Her movements were automatic as they walked up to their suite and she barely noticed the few people who stared. She changed out of her dress and jewels; pulling on a pair of soft, neutrally coloured linen shorts, flip-flops and a thin red vest-top. She twisted her hair up into a loose knot to keep it off her neck and headed out onto the balcony to catch the last of the day's sunlight. Settling herself onto a comfortable chaise lounge beneath the shade of a large parasol, she began to read.

He joined her after a few minutes, settling himself in a chair on the opposite side of the balcony, also opening a book. She noticed that he was dressed far more casually than she had ever seen him. His shirt looked soft and well-worn; open at the collar and the sleeves were rolled up. His trousers were linen and looked similarly comfy, and his feet were bare. She did her best not to look at him, although she knew that he was looking more at her than at his book.

After a while she switched her attention to the Daily Prophet and began finish the crossword he had begun that morning, calling out clues that she could no answer as she worked through it. She found it very odd to be doing something so normal with a man that she had anything but a normal relationship with. It was finished quickly and, giving her wand a little flick, the paper began to transform itself into little origami birds that fluttered around the balcony.

Closing the parasol so she could make the most of the dying sun's rays, she picked up her book again. She heard the scrape of a chair on the wooden floor, followed by his footsteps. He heard him pull up a chair behind her and, seconds later, felt his hands on her hair. He pulled the long black waves free of their fastening, allowing her hair to tumble gracefully down her shoulders. She gave no signal that she had noticed his touch, her eyes remaining fixed on the text of her book.

"I like it down." He murmured in her ear, stroking his hands up and down her neck.

She set her book down on the table as he slid down next to her, burying his head in the curve of her neck and running his hands over the smooth lines of her body. Though she tried her best to remove herself from what was happening, she could not help letting go a small gasp as he pulled her in closer, his hands working her top over her head. She could feel his hands toying with the waistband of her shorts, pushing them down over her hips as his mouth traced the elegant line of her neck. Unable to wait any longer, he lifted her off the chaise and carried her inside, not even making it as far as the bedroom; taking his fill of her on the large sofa.

He left her there, naked and ashamed once he was through; disappearing into his room with a self-satisfied smile on his face. She heard sound of water against tiles and, after a few more minutes' contemplation, stood up. Picking up his discarded shirt, she shrugged it on and went in search of her underwear; finding her knickers abandoned not far from the chaise. Pulling these on, she leant against the balustrade; fingering the cuff of his white shirt and gazing out at the evening sky.

It was made of soft cotton that rested lightly on her skin, slightly crumpled from lying on the floor. It was still warm and his scent clung around the collar. Her fingers traced themselves around the cuff, running over the spot where the Malfoy crest was embellished in white thread; an almost indistinguishable mark of wealth and the seriousness of what she had gotten herself into.

They dined in the hotel restaurant later that night, discussing the match over exotic dishes and rich wine, not appearing more than friends. Their table was in a corner and he appeared to have chosen a time when there were few patrons, affording them some degree of privacy. Nevertheless, she made sure her hair fell in such a way that it obscured her scar. Considering that he was paying, she had more than her fair share of the expensive wine and took her pick of some of the most expensive dishes. By the way he raised his eyebrows; she guessed that he hadn't thought that someone of her age would have such a taste for red wine.

Once they returned to the privacy of their suite, she disappeared into her room without a word. He paid this no mind, assuming she was going to change, and made himself a nightcap from the substantial bar. As an afterthought, he poured a second for her. From what he had learned of her tastes over the past two days, her appreciating a fine Cognac would not be a surprise.

When she did not reappear, he picked up the glasses and went off to see what had become of her. Standing in the doorway of her room he saw what had happened. She was sprawled out on the bed in a blood red silk negligee. The sheets were thrown back but she hadn't even pulled them over her before she had fallen asleep.

"And she sleeps." He murmured to himself from his vantage point in the doorway. Setting the glasses down on the dressing table, he vanished for a moment and reappeared ready for bed. She hadn't moved from where she lay on the rich cream pillows. Extinguishing the lamps, he settled himself next to her, pulling the covers up around her bare shoulders. When he drew her nearer he was sure that, in the small sliver of moonlight that came through the fine gossamer curtains, he saw her smile at his touch.

They returned to England the following evening after spending a lazy day around the hotel; Kathryn making a small trip into the city to pick up a few knick-knacks as gifts. Fudge met them outside the hotel at seven o'clock, apparently not needing to return to the Ministry on a Sunday. If he had any questions as to their accommodation arrangements, he did not voice them. He greeted them jovially before he touched his hand to the same rabbit-shaped Portkey that they had used on Friday night. One minute they were standing in the balmy Dubai evening and, one sharp jerk behind the navel later, they were landing on the front steps of his Manor.

Kathryn shuddered as they entered the main hall of the grand house; a mixture of the cold and the bad memories the house held for her. Even though the fires were blazing in their grates, the temperature difference was noticeable compared to the balmy warmth of Dubai. They were soon settled in one of the upstairs drawing rooms; two fires keeping the high-ceilinged room cosy and warm. As it was only three in the afternoon, tea was sent for and Mr. Malfoy and Fudge settled in to talk business.

Looking out of one of the large windows, Kathryn could see that snow was still lying throughout the grounds. Digging in her bag for her winter coat, she excused herself and went for a walk; leaving Malfoy and the Minister to discuss whatever they wanted without fear of her overhearing.

She had never gotten the chance to explore the grounds of the Malfoy estate, although she'd had a good look at it the previous summer. The grounds were larger than she had expected, her limited viewing in august not really doing it justice. There were great, landscaped gardens filled with many exotic plants that were, at that point, covered with a fine layer of snow and frost. The sprawling lawns shone with frost in the weak afternoon sunlight and, beyond the formal gardens, she could see what appeared to be a sizeable wood that bordered the end of the garden. On reflection, it was really quite a fine place to be held captive.

From the upstairs drawing room where they were having tea, she was just visible from the window; a small figure in black that was a stark contrast to the surrounding snow. Lucius found himself watching her as he stood looking out over the grounds when he was supposed to be listening to the Minister.

"Lucius." Fudge's voice jerked him back out of his reverie. "Lucius, did you hear a word of what I just said?"

"Hmm?" he did not take his gaze from the window.

"What are you looking at that is so mesmerising?" Fudge bustled over to the window and saw what had been so enthralling him. Standing stock still by the edge of the small wood was Kathryn. Slowly edging towards her was a brilliant white unicorn. He had known that there was one roaming somewhere about his grounds, but he had never gotten as close as Kathryn was now standing.

They supposed from the way she was holding her arm out that she had sugar lumps in her palm. The unicorn took step after tentative step towards her and, after about a minute of this cautious behaviour, it seemed to relax and came right up to her; taking the sugar from her hand. Moving slowly, so as not to startle it, Kathryn raised a hand and gently stroked the animal's shining mane.

"It is amazing, isn't it?" Fudge said absent-mindedly, his eyes also fixed on the young woman in the distance.

"What is?"

"What she has gone through, I mean, what she and her brother have gone through. Yet you would think that she had not a care in the world."

"They are certainly resilient." Mr. Malfoy agreed, sipping his drink pensively. "Although some would call them imprudent." They watched as she walked back towards the house, her eyes fixing them both with a regal gaze as she passed beneath the window.

Once she returned and had a mug of tea cupped between her hands, she settled herself in front of the crackling fire and buried her nose in a book. They paid her little heed when she produced parchment and a quill from her bag and made a start on the essay for Snape. She was about halfway through when a house elf with large flapping ears and great, bulbous eyes appeared at the door; announcing that dinner was ready.

Whilst Malfoy and Fudge made their way downstairs she excused herself and retreated to a bathroom to change. From her bag, she pulled out the second dress that she had packed, just for an option of outfit. It was fairly similar to the dress she had worn for the match, at least in terms of fit. Made from deep blue silk and chiffon; it floated gracefully down her body, clinging to just the right places, and had relaxed, off the shoulder straps instead of full sleeves.

She added the same necklace, bracelet and earrings she had worn the day before and then made her way down the large staircase leading to the Entrance Hall. The heels of her shoes echoed off the polished floors as she headed towards the sound of voices; walking through an elegantly furnished drawing room to a pair of large, polished oak doors that were slightly ajar.

She stepped slowly through the opening into another grand room, this one with a long table stretching down the centre. Out of politeness, both men rose as she approached the far end where they were seated, Mr. Malfoy pulling out the third high backed chair to the right of him. She noticed, but ignored, the surreptitious looks their host was giving her as Fudge complemented her appearance.

The food was laid out on silver platters before them and she gladly helped herself to succulent roast shoulder of lamb and perfectly steamed vegetables as they talked, chasing it down with a rich, fruity red wine. Dessert was equally as magnificent, giving the Hogwarts kitchens a run for their money as they were presented with slices of perfectly cooked Tarte Tatin. Kathryn felt her eyelids beginning to droop as they sat and talked even more, the topics of conversation far more serious than the usual Sunday evening talk of the common room.

Excusing herself, she went to stand at the front door; letting the crisp, cool air wake her up. Mere minutes later, she turned to find Fudge bustling into the Entrance Hall; pulling on his pinstriped cloak and bowler hat.

"Urgent message. Got to go." She heard him say as Mr. Malfoy followed him out. "Terribly sorry Lucius, it was a wonderful meal." He apologised sincerely.

"You are very welcome, Minister." Turning away from the door, Kathryn made her way back over to bid him goodbye as well.

"Miss Potter, a pleasure as always." Fudge said, giving her a warm smile, taking her hand and bowing.

"Thank you Minister."

"Lucius, you'll see that she gets home safely, won't you?" Fudge asked.

"Certainly."

"Well, good, good." He mumbled to himself. "Good evening." With that he disapparated with a 'pop' and she was left alone with Mr. Malfoy.

Without a word she made her way back upstairs to where she had left her things. When he finally arrived, she was standing before one of the large mullioned windows, staring morosely out at the black countryside.

"You know," he began in a thoughtful voice as he came to stand behind her, laying his hands on her shoulders, "I do admire you for being so noble. Yet I do not understand why you would risk yourself in such a manner, merely to protect your friends."

"Some people value others above themselves." She replied stoically, gazing mournfully at her reflection in the glass.

"How very foolish." He said in an icy voice. "But why should I mind?" he slipped his hands down her arms and began to softly kiss the curve of her neck.

"Some people would call it bravery." She shot back, trying to discreetly pull herself away from his touch.

"Now, now," he pulled her even closer to his body, "I thought we'd gone over this little problem." He whispered in her ear. "As long as you say nothing, you belong to me and you stay." She hung her head as she yielded to his touch, feeling his fingers slide the zip of her dress open. The material slid from her shoulders, gathering around her waist, and she felt his hands slide over her skin. She quivered as he touched her, going limp in his arms as his hands moved lower. He gave a low chuckle, enjoying her inability to hide her intense reaction.

"You may try to hide behind a stoic face" he murmured seductively in her ear, "but your body does not lie." The moan that escaped her lips told him all he needed to know.

Without further ado he lifted her off her feet and carried her downstairs to a different room. The fact that all the paintings had been covered with black velvet curtains did not escape her notice as they passed. She would have bet anything that the curtains were completely sealed so the paintings beneath them would hear nothing.

The door clicked shut behind them and, moments later, she landed on the soft mattress of a large, opulently carved four-poster bed. The hangings were a lavish, deep green and matched the soft coverlet that lay over the rich cream sheets. Her heart skipped a beat when she realised that they were not in the small room that he had used in the past, but in the bedroom that he shared with his wife. These thoughts were, however, banished from her mind as he advanced upon her; practically tearing her dress away as he struggled to remove his own shirt.

A couple of hours later she lay awake in the giant bed; her head on the pillow, staring blankly at the far side of the room as he slept beside her. There was a look of abject terror on her face. What was she doing? She felt his arm slide round her waist and try to pull her closer, an arm that she knew bore the dark mark. She resisted for a moment, her grip tightening on the pillow. Fighting the urge to cry, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath before succumbing to the pull of his arm and rolled over to lie close to him; her black hair mingling with his blond on the pillow.

She rose early the next morning, disentangling herself from his arms and showering as quietly as she could before packing up her things; several items of clothing strewn across the floor from his frenzied attempts to remove them the previous night. She was back in Grimmauld Place, eating a large breakfast with Sirius by seven and was out the door at half past eight.

To her delight, she spent Monday with the Auror Office. She chatted for ages with Tonks who gave her stacks of material about how the Aurors used potions in the entrapment of dark wizards. It was easily enough to finish off her essay for Snape. Tonks, Kingsley and Moody all came over for dinner that evening too; all of them very eager to hear about the Quidditch match. They stayed up until the early hours of the morning just talking around the kitchen table, lazily swigging butterbeer or, in Moody's case, whatever he kept in his hip flask.

Her last day was spent with the Department of Magical Games and Sports. It was a rather disorganised department, with posters of various Quidditch teams littering the walls along with the occasional signed set of robes or Quaffle. She was also rather self-conscious as she could see several photos from the England match in Dubai; one of which was of the team doing their victory laps of the stadium with her clinging onto the back of the chaser's robes. She would have imagined this job to be more exciting though, as she was put to the arduous task of reading the report on the annual general meeting of the Gobstones Federation and then drawing up a list of all that was needed for the upcoming British Championships.

Dinner was a more subdued affair that evening, with she and Sirius sharing a quiet meal before settling down to several games of wizard chess and plenty of Firewhisky. She swiftly regretted it in the morning, however, when she woke to a pale blue winter sky and the smell of bacon frying. Glancing at her clock she saw it was nearly eleven and she was supposed to have been leaving for Hogwarts at eight. Practically falling out of bed in panic, she ran straight for the shower; turning the cold tap until it would go no further and yelping as the icy water stung her skin and woke her up. Down in the kitchen, Sirius was humming to himself whilst standing over the frying pan when she came in looking more than slightly flustered.

"Brunch?" he asked casually, checking to make sure the toast wasn't burning.

"I was supposed to be back at Hogwarts this morning." She said with a groan as she slumped down into a chair.

"I thought I could let you sleep in, you needed more than five hours."

"Sirius!" She moaned, folding her arms on the table and laying her head down on them. "I've got double potions with Snape this afternoon. If I'm not back he'll kill me."

"It's none of old Snivelly's business when you get back." He waved his wand and orange juice and tea poured themselves into a glass and a mug sitting before her. "Now, get some food into you and then you can go back." He laid down plates of bacon, sausages, toast, eggs, tomatoes and a dish of baked beans. She tucked in greedily, realising how hungry she was when her stomach gave a loud rumble.

Despite her plans to eat and leave, she ended up having to sit for a good half an hour while her food settled; finally arriving at the main entrance to the castle just as the bell went for the end of lunch. Sprinting back up to the common room; she pulled on her robes over her jeans, grabbed her bag and hurtled back down to the dungeons, ignoring the protests of the portraits as she ran. She was only fifteen minutes late but she knew that Snape would not be sympathetic in any way.

She sidled quietly through the door and slunk along the back wall to her desk between Harry and Hermione. They whispered a quick hello as she began to unpack her bag. Snape had his back turned but she did not doubt that he had noticed her entrance.

"So, Miss Potter." He said in an icy voice, turning and walking towards her desk. "You decided to grace us with your presence after all." Malfoy sniggered across the classroom but Snape ignored him.

"I'm sorry-." She began but he cut her off.

"Although I see you don't seem to have bothered with the correct uniform." He cast a disapproving eye over her jeans and t-shirt.

"I've just got back." She explained quickly, not giving him a second chance to interrupt. "I thought you'd rather I was fifteen minutes late instead of half an hour." The classroom broke out in furious whispers at such a comment; hardly believing she dared challenge the feared potions professor.

"Five points from Gryffindor, Miss Potter," Snape replied curtly, "do not e late again. Now get on with your work." Keeping her eyes down, she set up her cauldron and made a start on the day's potion. She gave a smile of hello to Harry, Ron and Hermione but did not dare speak. About halfway through the lesson, Snape again approached. Chancing a quick glance, she saw that he had a copy of the Sunday Prophet between his pale hands.

"I assume you had an interesting week at the Ministry, Miss Potter?"

"Yes." She was quite stunned that he was now enquiring about her week, but she did not look up from her work.

"But I take it that you've finished flaunting yourself for the society pages of the Sunday Prophet?" looking up, he was clutching the paper with a malicious look on his face.

"Excuse me, Professor?" she was now extremely confused.

"You mean, you haven't seen?" a look of glee flitted across his pale, pointed face. He tossed the paper down on her desk, already open on the society page. To her dismay, the photo of herself and Lucius Malfoy at the Quidditch match graced the front page. She rifled quickly through to glimpse more pictures of herself with Fudge and the England squad. Flipping to the back pages she saw the sport section with the commentary on the match also held, amongst several action shots of the match, a photograph of her with both teams and one from the victory lap round the stadium.

"Keep it. I'm sure you'll want to clip it out." He turned and stalked off to make snide comments about other peoples' work. Her face burned as she stowed the paper in her bag as fast as possible, although not for any arrogant reasons, but because she did not want Harry, Ron or Hermione to see before she did. It was the longest potions lesson of her life and she felt like everyone's eyes were on her, which she knew they probably were. She tossed her completed essay on Snape's desk when the bell rang and hurried out of the gloomy dungeon before anyone else could say a word.

That rest of the afternoon was taken up by transfiguration, Kathryn glad for the fact that Professor McGonagall did not say a word about her time away, giving her more time to practice the complicated Switching Spells. She again got out of the classroom as quickly as possible, ignoring the tempting smell of roast beef and Yorkshire puddings as she passed the Great Hall.

The common room was blissfully empty as she hurried through the portrait hole and ran up the stairs to the boys' dormitory. She threw her bag down onto Harry's bed and pulled the slightly crumpled paper out before pulling herself up onto the high window ledge. She sat cross-legged in the small alcove and spread the paper across her knees, taking the time to read what had been written and look at the photos they had published.

Snape hadn't been exaggerating; her face had been put on every page of the five-page special on the match. Apparently it had been quite a gathering of the 'great and good' of wizarding society. She was pictured with the Ministers, both teams and, of course, Mr. Malfoy. The worst was by far the photo that graced the front page.

Although she hadn't really been focused on the photographer at that point, and had just turned and smiled, they had got a rather stunning shot. They were both standing at a slight angle and Kathryn noticed several things that she had not registered four days ago. For a start, her fan was open, creating a splash of vivid colour on the black of her dress. She also noticed her other hand which was, unbeknownst to her, resting on the top of the silver serpent that crowned his cane. It was resting right on his hand, and even though it was not instantly visible, to her it stuck out a mile.

She flipped through the rest of the insert, checking the photos. The rest seemed to be all right. She did notice that, on the photo with Fudge and Malfoy, his hand had come to rest loosely on her waist. She pulled out the insert and laid it to the side, turning this time to the sports pages at the back of the paper. Here the remarks were more focused on the match, although there were some comments about the lap of victory that she took round the pitch with the team. This included a photo of her clinging onto the robes of one of the chasers, a wide grin on her face as they sped past the camera. She quickly folded the paper and hid it as the door creaked open and three figures walked in. It turned out to be only Harry, Hermione and Ron.

"Thought we'd find you here." Ron remarked in a disappointed tone. "I'd have hoped you'd have thought of better places to go when you don't want to be found." He flopped down onto his mattress and worked off his tie.

"Who says I didn't want to be found?" she raised her eyebrows at him from her perch.

"Well, you've been pretty keen to stay away from everyone since you got back." Kathryn and Hermione both closed their eyes as Harry and Ron pulled on jeans and t-shirts, although it was unlikely that anything they saw would astonish them. "You even skipped dinner, and we all know how much you love Yorkshire puddings." He finished with a grin, pulling his head through his t-shirt.

"We brought you some." Hermione handed up a golden plate piled high with thin slivers of beef, Yorkshire puddings and vegetables; all dripping in gravy. This was followed by a goblet of apple juice.

"Thanks Hermione." She stabbed her fork eagerly onto her plate and began to eat.

"What did Snape mean?" Harry finally spoke, giving his sister a confused look from where he sat cross-legged on his bed. "You were on work experience. What was 'flaunting yourself for the society pages' supposed to mean?" Kathryn held up a hand for him to wait whilst she finished chewing.

"I was on work experience." She said, taking a bite of Yorkshire pudding.

"So how could you be flaunting yourself for the society pages if you were working?" Harry pushed.

"I went to a Quidditch match."

"So, that's not that big a deal." Ron scoffed from his bed. "I mean, how many people go to Quidditch matches?"

"It wasn't an ordinary match, was it?" Hermione said in a quiet, serious voice. Kathryn took a deep breath.

"No." She threw the society and sport sections of the paper down onto Harry's bed. Ron scrabbled across to look as Harry's eyes widened in shock.

"You went to the England international against Australia!" Ron cried as he saw the title, Kathryn nodded by way of reply. "How? The tickets sold out an hour after going on sale."

"The Department for Magical Games and Sports." She recited, looking wistfully out the window.

"They weren't just any tickets, Ron." Hermione chided him. "Do you really think she would have been photographed if she was in the stands? She was in the top box."

"You're on every page." Harry said in a quiet but incredulous voice. "Snape wasn't lying."

"I didn't flaunt myself." Kathryn snapped back in an angry tone. "It's not my fault photographers were lurking."

"We know that." Hermione interrupted in a calm voice. "But it's true, they have put you on every single page."

"I'm a Potter; of course they're going to splash my face all over the place."

"Well, that is a fact, but-."

"But have you made it your mission to be continuously at the side of Lucius Malfoy whenever you can." The photo on the front page was lain out in front of them. Harry smacked the picture with his hand for emphasis, his voice taking on a dangerous edge as he stared intently at his sister, waiting for her reply.

"It's not my choice what they print. I was just talking to him and the photographer came over." Kathryn tried to make up a half-true, plausible explanation.

"And in this one," Harry turned to the photo on the middle page, "what is he doing with his arm round your waist?"

"He is posing for a photograph, Harry, it doesn't mean anything." Harry was about to open his mouth to argue back but she cut him off. "I know what you think and I will tell you again, I know what I am doing."

"You got to ride round the stadium!" Ron suddenly exclaimed, the tension in the room dissipating.

"Yeah." Kathryn blushed slightly. "I think I've become their good luck charm or something. They just pulled me on after the match, it was quite cool actually."

"Did you see James?" Harry asked; his bad temper forgotten and now interested in the match.

"Yeah. She was a bit off form though, I mean, I spotted the Snitch while they were all down the other end of the pitch."

"Well, what they really need is a bunch of Firebolt's, like Ireland has." He and Kathryn both knew the advantages of having the fastest broom available.

"True, still, it was a good game," she finished, "I've got some good ideas for new tactics that we can try out tomorrow night."

"What about Dubai?" Hermione asked. "I've heard its bazaars are amazing."

"Oh yeah, that reminds me." She summoned her bag up from Harry's bed and pulled out three small, brightly wrapped parcels. "I got you these." She threw them down and they tore open the wrapping, slightly surprised that she had thought of them.

For Hermione she had found an interesting set of bracelets that had glass beads filled with white smoke that changed colour depending on her mood and a small figurine carved from wood and set with polished black stone. For Harry and Ron she had found some moving models of the England players on their miniature brooms.

They spent the rest of the evening in their favourite chairs by the fire, talking over the match whilst trying to plough through their homework that included another particularly nasty essay from Snape. She also spent most nights that week training for their match against Ravenclaw that weekend. She tried out the move she had seen in Dubai and, thankfully, it worked perfectly. Although it would be a lot different on Saturday when there was another team on the pitch.

It did work well on the day, albeit they didn't get to use it much, as Harry once again gave them a quick match by catching the Snitch within forty minutes despite the heavy rain that soaked their robes and stung their cheeks and fingers. Kathryn had to admire him for that quick capture, as she knew that he didn't like playing against Cho; worried that his winning Quidditch would spoil the friendship they had managed to forge.

He'd gotten over it, however, and he had once gone so far as to pull a Wronski feint and let Cho crash into the muddy ground. She'd also had a stern word with Harry and Ginny when they started going out, telling them to leave their relationship behind when they play Quidditch. They seemed to have listened and did not betray the slightest hint of their familiarity when they were playing. They collapsed in the common room, exhausted and soaking but exhilarated; the Quidditch Cup wasn't far from their reach.

* * *

A/N - The first dress is another from the Christian Dior Haute Couture 2007 collection, slightly modified to what I want to see. John Galliano is a genius...

Also, to get the feel, the music that inspired the balcony scene just after they arrived was 'Valpariso' by Sting.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N - Valentine's Day.....a tricky date....but an interesting one in which feelings are complicated, Draco gets a verbal punch to the gut and a surprising gesture is made.

**15/01/10 - CHAPTER REVISED AND UPDATED!!**

Please read, enjoy and let me know what you think!!

* * *

The weekend after the match was Valentine's Day, and a Hogsmeade weekend. The castle was full of couples all planning what they were going to do in the village. Harry and Ginny were going for a meal in the Three Broomsticks, as were Hermione and Ron. Kathryn, obviously, had no plans and wanted to stay away from what she considered to be a far too sickly-sweet celebration. She waved goodbye to the four of them as they reached Hogsmeade's main street.

Whilst they continued on towards Honeydukes, she veered off the street, sticking the earphones of her iPod in as she went; heading up from the village towards the caves where Sirius had once hid. She wandered in, catching a glimpse of some shreds of an old Daily Prophet in the gloom, before continuing on until she reached the top of the hill that looked down over the village.

It was completely deserted, no couples taking a romantic stroll thanks to the icy February wind whipping across the hilltop. Bushing off its light dusting of snow, she perched herself on the edge of a solitary boulder. With the mellow tones of a French song drifting through her ears, she watched the village below. The few students that were out of doors were reduced to small figures, wrapped up in bright scarves and hats, meandering through the snow. She could have shouted her terrible secret at the top of her voice and none would have heard.

She was quite surprised when someone sat down next to her, not really expecting to have company in such inhospitable weather. Turning her head, she took in the sight of his blond hair and cane with an expressionless face. She did not smile, but neither did she frown. Inside, however, her heart was fluttering with a mixture of nerves and excitement; somewhat matching the change of tempo in her music. Clicking the little device off, she stowed it away in the pocket of her cloak, and then there was only silence and the howling of the wind. In the awkward silence she came to the unhappy realisation that, on a day dedicated to love and romance, she was going to be spending her time with a Death Eater.

"Any particular reason for the glum face?" he asked as she stood and walked over to the edge of the slope. "Or just my presence?" she was tempted to say the latter, but today that would be a lie.

"Everyone has someone today." She sighed as she gazed wistfully down at the village below with the couples milling through the streets, her hair blowing out behind her. "No one even asked me." Without a word, he came to stand behind her and took one of her cold hands in his.

"You have me." A tear trickled down her cheek as he spoke the inevitable truth; his arms sliding around her waist to lock her in a tight embrace. He turned her round slowly, holding her tight to him as he wiped away the tears from the corner of her eyes. A second later they disapparated; reappearing at the foot of his bed with the deep green hangings.

She again noted the curtains covering all the paintings as he tossed their cloaks aside. He smiled as his fingers found their way underneath her top, feeling the rigid boning of the corset-like underwear she had decided to put on that morning. Of course, she had not chosen such a thing without thought. She had deemed it unlikely that he would appear on such a day, but she did not think him completely incapable of exploiting such an opportunity. She had put it on in the full knowledge that he would like to find her wearing it. And somewhere, deep down inside, she was pleased; happy to know that she gave him pleasure.

With her top lying in a heap on the floor he dropped onto his knees before her, still holding her close. Her hands rested on the shoulders of his crumpled white shirt as he kissed her skin through the blood-red lace and silk of her underwear. His fingers, meanwhile, undid the buttons of her jeans and slipped the worn denim from her hips. Once they had been kicked across the room he stood before her once more, his hands taking in the texture of the smooth silk and soft velvet trimming of her underwear. She smiled as his lips feathered across her collarbone, his breath tickling her skin. He moved again so they were cheek to cheek, his mouth near her ear; she waited for what he was going to say.

"At least you came prepared." He whispered seductively, sending shivers running up her spine. He kept his head there, as if he had more to say; but instead of speaking, his teeth found the soft flesh of her earlobe and bit down. She gasped in shock as she melted into him, her arms draped around his neck.

Sliding her hands over the soft cotton of his shirt, her fingers deftly undid the buttons and slid it off his shoulders. It was a move that startled even her, having never made any kind of move in their previous encounters. He did not seem to mind, smirking in satisfaction as his hands loosened the lacing that ran up the back of her underwear. He worked quickly, apparently quite proficient in the speedy removal of such items. She shivered again as his hands stroked over her now exposed skin, his touch sending a jolt of excitement through her body. Advancing upon her until she had no choice but to climb onto the bed, she waited there patiently; her cheeks already flushed with anticipation.

She did not protest as he moved on top of her, flinging the rest of her underwear aside, but not taking his attention off her form beneath him. Instead of waiting for him to take what he wanted, she urged him on; running her hands up his lean torso, pulling him closer. All the while she returned his kisses, dragging her hands through his hair and wrapping it round her fingers. She uttered no words of complaint as he rocked her slowly beneath him, and if she cried out it was not in pain, but in pleasure.

They slept for a couple of hours afterwards, both entirely spent of energy; Kathryn resting her head on his shoulder and her palm flat on his chest. He looked for a long while at the girl sleeping in his arms, brushing her tousled hair out of her face, his other hand stroking down the gentle arch of her back. Other people could have their picture perfect wives; he would be content just to have her.

He caught her at about two o'clock in the afternoon tiptoeing slowly across the room, wrapped in a bed sheet and gathering up her discarded clothes. While her back was turned he moved silently around behind her and coiled his arms around her slender waist.

"You don't get away that easily this time." He whispered in her ear, having been most disappointed to find his bed empty after her last visit. The top she was holding fell back to the floor as he dragged her back down onto the bed, holding her firmly beneath him and taking what he wanted. She gave it to him, no question, not even complaining for the way he roughly handled her.

An hour later she finally managed to tear herself away from his grasp, picking up the wisp of red lace that passed itself for underwear and pulling it on. After a few moments of clumsily fiddling with the laces, she stood holding onto one of the ornately caved poles of the four-poster bed as he laced the corset up once more. She gasped as he pulled them as tight as they would go, his fingers lingering on her skin for longer than they should.

Resisting his entreaties for her to stay longer, she wrapped her cloak defiantly about her shoulders. He bade her goodbye with a small kiss on the cheek, discreetly slipping something into her pocket, before she apparated back to Hogsmeade with a small 'pop'.

She reappeared back on the hillside, looking back down on the village. It was only then that she let the tears roll freely down her cheeks, slumping back down onto her boulder, crippled by guilt. She wished that he was cruel, that he would hurt her instead of tormenting her with tender caresses. She could cope with pain, she had done so on many occasions, but the emotional pain of what he did felt like it would rip her in two. Scrubbing the tears from her face, she took a few deep breaths to steady herself before standing and heading back down towards the village. Her breath rose in front of her as she reached the village and the students that were still milling around.

"I may have you." She said bitterly to herself as she walked. "But I will never be anything more than your plaything. And I will never know love."

She dug her hands into her pockets against the icy wind, touching on something hard and cold that had not been there before. Pulling it out she found a silver ring set with a large, blood red stone that she had seen him wear on a few occasions. It was weighty in her palm, the stone seemingly glowing in what was left of the weak February sunlight. Slipping it on, she found it a perfect fit, although it had probably been resized for her finger. The large stone, that she supposed was a ruby, did not look out of place on her hand; being substantial enough to stand out, but minimal enough not to be too conspicuous. It did bring a small smile to her face, but she also saw the irony in giving her a ring set with a stone that was thought to be representative of love, for she knew that he would never feel anything of the sort for her.

The main thoroughfare in Hogsmeade was crowded with students, all of them wrapped up against the icy wind, clutching bags from Honeydukes or Zonko's. She squeezed through the crowd of students still filling Honeydukes to replenish her stocks of sweets and browsed Scrivenshaft's for a new quill.

Her stomach turned as she wandered into a side street, not really paying attention to where she was going, and found herself walking straight towards Malfoy and his cronies. Her hand curled around her wand in her pocket as he advanced, Crabbe and Goyle following in his wake along with Pansy Parkinson.

"Well, well." He began in his usual smug voice. "What have we here? Little Miss Potter all on her own."

"Sod off, Malfoy." Her tone was disinterested, completely cool.

"Oooh, harsh words Potter, don't strain yourself!" Pansy Parkinson squealed from behind her boyfriend. Kathryn craned her head to look past Malfoy at Pansy, who was still sporting her horrible haircut.

"She didn't take your advice then?" she raised an eyebrow at Draco, a devilish smirk upon her face. "Or did you neglect to tell her?"

"Tell me what? What didn't you tell me Draco?" Pansy screeched in an angrier tone this time.

"His father thinks that you should get rid of that mess you call a haircut." She said quickly before Malfoy could stop her, looking at Pansy with an expression of feigned sympathy on her face.

"What!" She shrieked, glaring at Malfoy.

"Well, um, you see-" He stammered.

"You look ugly, basically." Kathryn added, pretending to be helpful. "I agree with him too. I mean, I know he's a Death Eater so we generally don't see eye-to-eye, but I really can't say anything in your defence." Pansy could do nothing but open and close her mouth in shock, looking startlingly like a fish as she did so.

"You think you're so big, Potter, getting your picture taken with my dad and Fudge. Just because you've got a stupid scar." Malfoy spat, anger blazing in his eyes. "You're a lying bitch too." He said, trying desperately to salvage the situation with Pansy.

"Now, now, language," she chided, giving a disturbingly accurate impression of the tone Umbridge had used when addressing miscreants, "wash your mouth out." Taking the idea from her father and Sirius, she whipped out her wand.

"Scourgify." She said lazily, flicking her wand at his sneering mouth. Coughing and gagging, garish pink soap suds foamed from between Malfoy's thin lips. She giggled whilst the other three fumbled for their wands, hurrying to stop the spell.

"You'll pay for that one." He said, levelling his wand at her and doing his best to be menacing. The effect was spoilt, however, as the remnants of the lurid bubbles dripped form his chin as he spoke.

"No. I don't think I will." She gave him a sympathetic smile, as if talking to someone very stupid. "I mean, there may be a sudden outbreak of wand slipping if you do that, and I really think you have all had your fill of the hospital wing for the moment." She said, referring to the DA members who would wreak their revenge if he dared curse her.

"Well, at least I've got people who want to be with me today. Looks like you're not wanted."

"I am." She snapped quickly before realising her mistake. He had gone for the easiest of insults and it had found its mark.

"Oh, touched a nerve, have I?" he smiled wickedly; Crabbe and Goyle grunting with laughter behind him whilst Pansy gave a high-pitched cry of amusement.

"No one wants to be with Potter, do they?" he walked closer towards her, a cocky spring in his step as his eyes washed over her with an expression of disdain. "Not really," he paused, "desirable." Pansy giggled stupidly in the background as she and Malfoy glared into each other's eyes. "I mean," he turned back to look at Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy, "I heard that she lives with an ex-con as well as the Weasleys. Now who would want that stain on their family?"

She desperately wanted to scream back at him that his Father didn't seem to mind but she held it in, knowing that it would not be the best course of action.

"You know nothing, you pathetic little worm." She replied in a dangerously calm voice, not taking her gaze off him. "Why weren't you at the England match then?" she asked quietly, a tone of mock curiosity in her voice.

"My father only had one ticket, that's why." He stated defiantly.

"Wrong." She shook her head. "He had two." She held up two fingers to illustrate her point. "Now, what was it he said to the Minister?" she paused, as if trying to recall some unimportant shard of information. "Oh yes, your school marks 'do not warrant such a privilege'."

"Liar." It was the only thing he could think of saying. She shook her head and began to move past them. As a second thought she stopped level with Malfoy and whispered silently in his ear.

"And he gave the second ticket to me." She paused a moment and smiled in cruel amusement at the stunned look on his face, then continued on walking.

"If only you knew," she said quietly to herself once she was out of earshot, "If only you knew." With a heavy heart, she rejoined the throng of students and shoppers and meandered back towards the path leading up to Hogwarts.

She lay awake late into that night. She knew she shouldn't have said that to Malfoy but, then again, she knew that he would never tell anyone for the simple reason that it would make him look stupid. He was supposed to be the constantly favoured and indulged son. Should the knowledge that his father had given the ticket to her as opposed to his own son be made public, it would be impossible for him to live it down.

Also keeping her awake at such an unsociable hour was the fact that, for some reason, she did not feel the crushing self-loathing that she normally would. Instead she lay curled up beneath the covers, wearing the white cotton shirt that he had worn in Dubai. She was turning the ring around in her fingers, marvelling at the way it seemed to glow in the moonlight. She thought of Harry, Ron and Hermione who, at this point, were lying asleep; blissfully unaware of the increasingly complicated tangle her life was becoming.

"What would you say if you knew what I'd really been doing?" she whispered to herself, gazing at the ring in her fingers. "What would you say?"

She froze as she heard Hermione stir in the bed across from hers. She lifted her head up, as if she had heard something, and then replaced it moments later. Kathryn replaced the ring on her bedside cabinet and snuggled further into the deep red covers of her bed. She smiled to herself as she inhaled his scent, still lingering round the collar of his shirt, and slowly began to drift off to sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N - Quidditch final time...a choice is offered. Draco does something stupid and then his father does something that is most unexpected, considering certain affiliations.

**15/01/10 - CHAPTER REVISED AND UPDATED!!**

I hope you enoy this chapter, and feel free to let me know what you think!!!

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She did not see Mr. Malfoy much for the rest of the year, and once again her heart was buoyed by the freedom she felt. He remained elusive, being seen only at the last Slytherin Quidditch match before the final. Although she was standing with Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny on the other side of the stadium, she could feel his eyes on her. His arrogant gaze washed over every gentle nuance of her body as she cheered on Ravenclaw; shouting in anger as Goyle nearly knocked Cho off her broom.

She saw no sign of him after the match either, though she still walked through the castle expecting him to appear and pull her away into a dark corner. In a similar fashion, he still disturbed her dreams. She would bolt awake in the middle of the night and expect to find him next to her; the memory of his tough was so vivid. The ring he had given her sat in the top drawer of her bedside table and, despite the guilt she felt; every so often she would slip it onto her finger. It had hardly ever gone beyond her dormitory door, but on the occasions it did she was sure that someone was going to notice it and ask far too many questions. In her mind, she was sure that the ring was as bright and obvious as a beacon; signalling her betrayal for all to see.

They did cross paths, however, at the Quidditch final. It was held later than usual, in the two glorious weeks after the end of the exams. She bumped into him in the teachers' box as she was inspecting the pitch before the match. The stands had already started to fill up, students carrying banners and flags in support of their respective teams. She noted that there was much more red and gold in the stands than there was silver and green; Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw also wanting to see Slytherin lose. It was perfect weather for flying, maybe a little hot, but otherwise alright; with a cloudless sky and only a slight breeze. She was already in her full Quidditch gear, a light summer cloak keeping it clean until the start of the match. A person appeared at her left shoulder, but she already knew who it was.

"Perfect conditions."

"Yes. We've had luck." She replied, incredibly aware of how close he was.

"Are you sure you are going to win?" he asked quietly. "You know I am quite tired of watching my team lose so often."

"Good brooms don't make good players, as I have told you before. And no, I will not lose."

"Fine, if Slytherin win, I leave you alone this time. If they lose, however, you are my consolation prize." Her insides froze as he spoke, but she did not let it show. He paused, apparently deep in consideration, before speaking again.

"Are you a gambling person?" he asked curiously. "What do you say to one hundred galleons on Slytherin to win?"

"I hope you brought your money with you." She said by way of agreement, turning round to face him. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a Quidditch match to win." She jerked the appropriately crimson cloak off her shoulders and allowed it to fall to the floor; revealing the most magnificent of all her pieces of armour. It was deep red and gold, the Gryffindor colours, and had been bewitched so the golden lion actually moved around on the surface. Climbing up onto the edge of the box she mounted her broom; kicking off hard and speeding down to the changing rooms where the rest of the team was waiting.

"It's perfect outside!" She informed them cheerily, belying the dread she felt, as they pulled on the brown leather gauntlets that protected their arms and shins. "It's a bit bright, we could do with a bit of cloud cover to keep the sun out of our eyes, but we'll manage." They all stood around the entrance to the pitch, watching the stands fill up with students eagerly anticipating a fast-paced, gripping match.

A hush finally descended over the stadium as Dean began the commentary, introducing the Slytherin team first. They came whizzing out of their entrance, seven green blurs on their Nimbus two thousand and one's.

"Listen." Kathryn said quickly. "Lucius Malfoy is up in the stands, I saw him when I was inspecting the pitch. No doubt he wants to see his team win, not that they have a chance." The entire team sniggered. "Let's show them how a real team plays Quidditch, how decent players do it. Oh, and watch out. I expect Malfoy will have told them to play as dirty as possible so watch your backs."

"AND NOW THE GRYFFINDOR TEAM MAKE THEIR WAY ONTO THE PITCH!" Dean yelled and they shot out of the entrance, making the Hawkshead attack formation and zooming around the stadium, much to the delight of the gathered crowd.

Kathryn could just make out Luna Lovegood's hat shaped like a lion, roaring every so often. She and Harry broke the formation and raced each other round the pitch before settling into their positions; Harry hovering high above the pitch whilst Kathryn landed in the centre with Madam Hooch and Malfoy. They shook hands with the looks of people who were about to fight to the death; Malfoy trying to crush her fingers in the process. Kathryn, having the wit to anticipate something so basic, grasped his hand below the finger joints and squeezed back; a small grimace flitting across Malfoy's face as his fingers were crushed painfully together.

The match began quickly, Ginny stealing the Quaffle straight away and going for the goal; expertly dodging two Bludgers and sending the Quaffle flying through the middle hoop. The Slytherin keeper passed straight to one of their chasers who sped off in the direction of the Gryffindor end. Gryffindor however, were too quick for them, and an expertly directed Bludger sent the Quaffle spinning out of the chaser's hands and straight into Kathryn's arms.

She took off with lightning speed, running rings around the Slytherins until she reached the goal. The crowds went wild as she scored another; cheers of 'GO GO GRYFFINDOR!' resonating through the stands and drowning out the taunts from the Slytherin end. Gryffindor received a penalty ten minutes into the game, Crabbe committing the offence of blagging; grabbing the tail of Emma's broom as she sped towards the goal hoops. Ginny sailed it past the Slytherin keeper Bletchley no problem, Kathryn meanwhile getting into position to intercept the Quaffle halfway up the pitch.

Slytherin did eventually get a couple of goals past Ron, although one was only scored whilst Ron had dived sideways to avoid a Bludger and couldn't defend the goal properly. The retaliation was formidable, the Gryffindor beaters performing their best ever; nearly knocking Malfoy off his broom several times. They tried out several famous moves, Ginny and Emma flying high with the Quaffle and then dropping it at the last minute to Kathryn who was waiting below them to score with ease through the badly defended goalposts.

"The Gryffindor chasers pull off the Porskoff Ploy with considerable finesse." Dean cried out to the stadium of eager students. "These girls do take some beating, it's like Johnson, Bell and Spinett never left!" he referred to their predecessors; Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell and Alicia Spinett. Gryffindor won another penalty as Crabbe, trying and failing to play dirty with no one noticing, hurled his beaters' club at Kathryn as she headed for the goal. It hit her square in the small of her back; knocking the Quaffle out of her hands and nearly sending her off her broom. She was suddenly very glad for the dragon-hide armour protecting her back.

"WHAT A DISGUSTING FOUL!" Dean cried above the appalled shouts from the crowd and the Slytherins laughter. "HOW LOW WILL THE SLYTHERIN TEAM GO TO WIN?" he was finding it somewhat difficult not to take sides.

"Thomas." Professor McGonagall said in a stern voice.

"Sorry Professor." Dean apologised quietly. "Crabbe of Slytherin fouls Gryffindor chaser Potter, which could happen to anyone." He amended. "Unperturbed, Potter steps up to take the penalty and…SHE SCORES!" The crowds went wild again.

Slytherin again managed to pull back a few goals, their supporters' spirits lifted by this revival. Their marking subsequently improved and soon Ginny found herself flying towards the goal stalked by every member of the team apart from Malfoy and the keeper. Kathryn and Harry took the initiative, flying straight towards them and causing them to scatter wildly in different directions.

Harry returned to his position high above the game, watching for any glimpse of the golden Snitch. He dodged sharply to the left as a Bludger whizzed dangerously close to his head, slugged in his direction by Goyle.

"Careful Potter, don't want to fall!" Malfoy jeered, as Crabbe sent another Bludger hurtling Harry's way mere seconds after he had regained his balance. He dodged it again, wanting nothing better than to ram Malfoy off his broom. Such behaviour was, however, unbecoming of a team that played fair and his sister would never forgive him for stooping so low. Besides, he had a better idea.

A split second later he dived, plummeting towards the ground with his arm outstretched. Malfoy, instinctively, followed close behind. In truth, Harry hadn't seen the Snitch at all and was only feinting; payback for Malfoy's dirty tactics. It was therefore quite surprising when he flew straight into the path of the actual Snitch. He felt his fingers close around the small metal ball. They had won! He kept on diving though, hurtling towards the ground at top speed with Malfoy right on his tail. He pulled up sharply only a few inches from the ground; leaving Malfoy to plough straight on into the grass and skid along the pitch for a good thirty feet.

"Potter was feinting," he heard Dean say as he rose upwards, "no, wait," he paused in shock as he saw Harry waving the Snitch triumphantly. "POTTER HAS THE GOLDEN SNITCH! GRYFFINDOR WIN!"

The stadium erupted with noise and Kathryn half crashed into her brother in mid-air as she rushed to get to him. The rest of the team, waving and cheering, soon joined her; all trying to congratulate Harry at the same time. They floated back down to earth several minutes later and were swamped by the Gryffindor supporters who lifted them up onto their shoulders and carried them towards Dumbledore who was waiting with the gleaming Quidditch cup. Harry and Kathryn raised it above their heads to the cheering crowd as streamers and confetti rained down on them; coating the pitch in a layer of red and gold.

The party in the common room began as soon as they got back, Dean and Seamus pinning up the banners whilst Ginny sped off to the kitchens to persuade the house elves to give them food and plenty of butterbeer. Fifteen minutes after she left, several house elves, led by Dobby, appeared with a series of loud 'cracks'; all of them bearing mountains of food and cases of butterbeer. Kathryn filled the common room with music and the party began. Someone had smuggled in some of Fred and George's merchandise and, every so often, someone would turn into a canary as they re-lived the match again and again.

Kathryn also used this as an opportunity to use up her personal stock of Fred and George's merchandise and she filled the room with clouds of red, purple, pink and blue stars as she set off the exploding sugar mice. As twilight finally fell she trouped outside with the rest of the Gryffindors and, with them all watching at the base of Gryffindor tower, she poked a small fuse attached to the wall. Moments later the wall exploded in a burst of colour and her entire collection of Fred and George's fireworks, mounted on the wall the previous day, lit up the evening sky.

The fireworks did not fade for hours, providing a pleasant distraction from the raucous party inside the common room; Kathryn sitting on the castle steps to watch the dragons and Catherine wheels soaring through the sky and the grounds. Aside from basking in the glory of her victory, she also used the time to contemplate how she was going to get away from the celebrations later that evening. She knew that he was still in the castle, she had seen him eating in the Great Hall with Snape, and she knew that, somewhere, he would be waiting.

She rejoined the party for a while, swigging from a bottle of butterbeer as she listened to peoples' views on the match, before slipping up to her dormitory. She checked her copy of the Marauder's Map, an exact replica made by Sirius and Lupin so that she and Harry didn't have to share. She saw the tiny dot labelled 'Lucius Malfoy' making its way along a corridor on the seventh floor that she knew well. She saw it walk backwards and forwards in front of a wall she knew was directly opposite a tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy showing him trying to train trolls for the ballet. After three passes, he disappeared. He was going to use the Room of Requirement, the very same place that they used for DA meetings, although she expected it to be furnished quite differently this time.

She changed quickly, pulling on a fresh pair of knickers and an electric-blue silk camisole with a low cut, scooped neckline that did little to conceal her figure. When paired with a pair of old jeans, however, it looked like nothing more than a normal summer top, albeit a very nice one. On top of this, she added a chunky cardigan that concealed the majority of her outfit.

As a precaution, she pulled out her toiletry bag and stuffed her mother's invisibility cloak inside. It was only eight o'clock and the eighth and ninth years were allowed out in the corridors until eleven, but she packed it just in case. Slipping on a pair of flip-flops, just to keep up the illusion of going for a shower, she strolled lazily back down to the common room; doing her best to act as if she hadn't a care in the world.

She made it out of the common room fairly easily, nearly being dragged into more conversation, but slipping quickly out the portrait hole before anyone could pull her back. The castle was eerily still compared to the Gryffindor common room. She caught brief glimpses of her fireworks as they soared past windows, lighting up the corridors as they passed.

Heading in the direction for the prefects bathroom on the fourth floor, she made it almost all the way there before ducking behind a tapestry and cutting through a secret passageway that led to the opposite side of the castle. From there she climbed the revolving staircases to the seventh floor, remembering to jump the vanishing step as she passed the sixth floor staircase. She halted before the door to the Room of Requirement for a brief moment, deliberating what could possibly happen if she never showed up. She decided not to chance it. Taking a deep breath, she grasped the handle and pushed the door open.

She returned to the party up in Gryffindor tower just before midnight; her toiletry bag considerably heavier with the weight of the large bag of coins. As soon as she stepped through the portrait hole, a cool bottle of butterbeer was pushed into her hands and she had to fight her way through the crowds of smiling Gryffindors to get back to the dormitory steps.

Depositing the gold and her invisibility cloak in the safety of her trunk, she went to stand before her mirror. She looked alright; her hair was slightly rumpled, as if she had been in the shower and hand-dried her hair, but nothing else was amiss. Replacing her camisole with a T-shirt, she sprayed on a touch of a light, flowery perfume to mask the heady scent of sex that still lingered about her body. Satisfied with her appearance, she darted back down the stairs to a party that was showing no signs of slowing down.

Professor McGonagall came in at two o'clock that morning, clad in her tartan dressing gown and slippers, to tell them to get to bed. She did not leave until they had all gone upstairs and were in their dormitories. Kathryn and Hermione collapsed onto their beds, Kathryn not even bothering to pull the covers up over her shoulders. She lay awake for only a little while, hoping against hope that she would never have to tell what she had done that night; that her brother and her friends would never find out the mess that she was digging herself deeper and deeper into.

The euphoria of their winning the Quidditch cup lasted well into the next week, much to the disgust of the Slytherins. For Kathryn, however, her high spirits were dashed by Wednesday as she found out she would be spending the night in the company of Malfoy.

As a Prefect, she had to patrol the corridors at night; assisting Filch the caretaker in his war against rule-breakers. He had never really gotten over Umbridge leaving, still maintaining that she was the best thing that had ever happened to the school. She considered it to be quite ironic that she, Harry, Ron and Hermione were supposed to be upholding the rules when they spent a fair time breaking them. At dinner on Wednesday morning, Professor McGonagall informed her that instead of doing her duty with Ernie Macmillan, who was in the hospital wing recovering from a Venomous Tentacula bite, she would be doing it with Draco Malfoy.

By unspoken agreement she met him at eleven o'clock that night in the Entrance Hall. He was still fully dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt and looked sulky, probably still cheesed off about losing in the Quidditch final. In comparison, although being just as annoyed at the prospect of spending several hours in his company, she was far more relaxed. She was pretty much in her pyjamas. A pair of grey, baggy pyjama bottoms hung off her hips, combined with a black vest-top and a pair of relaxed flip flops. This was all covered by a soft, thin, pale grey cotton dressing gown that she hadn't bothered to tie at the waist. Her wand stuck out of one of the pockets, her fingers brushing against it as she approached Malfoy.

"Look," she began before he could say anything, "I don't want to do this as much as you, more probably, so let's just get it over with." She did not wait for any reply, heading straight for a corridor off the hall.

"Fine." He muttered before moving to follow her.

She heard him walk silently along behind her through the corridors and she kept hold of her wand throughout, not trusting him to walk behind her without doing something sneaky.

It was an uneventful five hours spent walking through the castle, searching for miscreants attempting to sneak around at night. Kathryn laughed to herself as she, Harry, Ron and Hermione were often out of bed and wandering the castle at night; concealed of course by their invisibility cloaks. They finished their patrol at four o'clock the next morning, emerging into the Great Hall from a side door near the teachers' table.

"There, now that wasn't hard, was it?" she said in a slightly strained voice, exhausted from spending the entirety of the five hours in complete silence. "An experience I hope never to repeat." She muttered quietly as she walked towards the great double doors, eager to get back to her comfortable bed in the Gryffindor common room.

She did not hear it until it was too late. He drawled something under his breath and a jet of piercing blue light lit up the hall, hitting her square between the shoulders. She was vaguely aware of the sound of footsteps running across the hall before she felt a tingling sensation spread out from where the spell had hit her. Soon, her whole body felt like it was buzzing and an icy cold sweat erupted across her forehead. She staggered forward, her vision clouding and her head spinning as she tried to stay on her feet. Her efforts were, however, in vain and she fell flat onto the cold floor, lying sprawled out in-between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables. Immobile and close to comatose, she was unaware of what happened next.

She was found the next morning by the first few people to come through the doors of the Great Hall for breakfast. Several girls screamed whilst others ran for the teachers. By the time Professors were found there was a large crowd of students forming a ring around Kathryn. Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Flitwick and Snape entered the hall and the crowd parted to let them through to the centre of the circle. Professor McGonagall gasped as she caught sight of what was causing the commotion. Snape and Dumbledore remained silent.

Harry, Ron and Hermione came down the stairs a few moments later, puzzled by the crowds blocking the door. People began to whisper as they saw him approach, skittishly moving out of the way and letting the three of them pass. Pushing his way through the throng, Harry caught a glimpse of what everyone was staring at.

"No!" He cried in a strangled voice, pushing his way through more forcefully to get to the centre of the circle.

Floating fifty feet in the air above them was Kathryn, her face oddly serene and seemingly emitting a pale, iridescent light. She was still wearing her pyjamas, her dressing gown hanging off one of her shoulders.

"What…what happened?" he stammered to Professor McGonagall, not taking his eyes off the floating form of his sister.

"Oh, Potter." The teachers all turned to look at him when McGonagall said his name. "We don't know. She was found here a few minutes ago." Harry stood there along with Ron and Hermione in a stunned silence, all of them with no idea of what to do.

The culprit was soon identified as Malfoy, who was promptly given detention every day until the end of term. However, despite knowing who had performed the curse, the teachers, including Dumbledore, were at a loss to find the counter-curse. Although they trawled through countless volumes and tried several possible remedies, no solution appeared. They could also not get her down from her position in the Great Hall, and were obliged to leave her there until they could find an effective remedy. Harry was forced to watch his sister, suspended above them and growing paler by the day; as if her life was slowly ebbing away one day at a time.

After almost a week of searching for the answer, there was no alternative left, and Dumbledore sent an owl to Wiltshire. The following afternoon Mr Malfoy appeared in the Entrance Hall where he was met by Professors' Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape, with Malfoy walking sullenly along behind them. Harry could hear their hurried conversation from his seat in the empty Great Hall as they walked closer.

"It's a family curse, as it were." He could hear Mr Malfoy saying. "As far as I know, it was developed by my great-great Grandfather. He's not supposed to even know about it."

"Well, we would appreciate it if it stayed out of school." Harry heard Dumbledore say in a grave voice.

"I cannot prevent him reading." He replied casually, although Harry knew that Malfoy had most probably been taught the curse as opposed to learning it form a book. "You should have contacted me immediately though. I cannot say how badly it will have affected her, leaving her for almost a week will have been cutting it very fine." He appeared in the doorway and looked up at the figure suspended in mid-air.

She was now deathly pale, so serene in fact, that she could have been thought dead were it not for the almost imperceptible rise and fall of her chest as her breathing became steadily shallower. Harry, who had been sitting on one of the benches that lined the tables, looked across at him as he walked closer; the elder Malfoy's eyes fixed on Kathryn's immobile form.

"Put her right." He said in a slightly hoarse voice, his eyes tired from too many sleepless nights sitting in the Great Hall. Hermione and Ron appeared at his side, giving his sleeve a gentle tug to usher him out.

"I'm not leaving." He snapped, his voice cracking slightly.

"Harry, come on." Hermione said softly. "You need to rest; it'll all be over soon anyway."

"Yeah mate, you look a mess and you know she'll tell you so when she's down." Ron added, nodding his head towards Kathryn and trying to inject some levity into the gloomy situation.

"Dumbledore told us to fetch you. You don't need to watch this."

"She's right you know." Mr Malfoy added, not taking his eyes off Kathryn. "It's a complex bit of magic and I'd rather I didn't have a gaggle of schoolchildren watching."

"Come on." Harry allowed Hermione to pull him to his feet and lead him towards the doors. He allowed himself one last look before the doors closed and then flopped down onto the cold floor; leaning against the wall to wait. Silently, Ginny slid down next to him and took his hand.

"Death becomes her." He muttered to himself as he pulled off his cloak.

Even near death, she was still beautiful; as if she was merely sleeping. He cursed his son under his breath and pulled out his wand. This kind of curse was not supposed to be lifted, it was after all designed to kill, and that made the counter-curse very complicated. Technically, it would only lift when the victim died. It had been designed to cause suffering amongst the family of the person cursed, as they had no alternative but to watch their loved one die. Like most dark magic, it needed a fair bit of power to conjure, but took a great deal more effort to undo.

Pointing his wand directly at Kathryn he spoke the incantation, hoping that it would work. The caster needed to believe that they could return the victim to life, had to want to have them back. At this point, he wanted nothing more than to see her eyes. To his great relief, a stream of silvery light snaked its way from the end of his wand and up to Kathryn's motionless figure where it formed a shining, cocoon like structure around her. It span rapidly around her for several moments, emitting a pulsing white light that illuminated the entire hall. Harry saw the flashes and made to run for the door; Hermione, Ginny and Ron grabbing the back of his t-shirt to keep him from moving. Inside, the bright light stopped and the cocoon faded away into nothingness. All that was left was Kathryn, still suspended in mid-air. Slowly and gracefully, she began to float down, as if supported by an invisible cradle. Standing beneath her, Mr Malfoy made ready to catch her, spreading his cloak across his arms and holding them out.

She settled gently into his arms moments later. She was still deathly pale, her skin icy cold to the touch, and she did not open her eyes. Not wasting any time, he wrapped his cloak about her, checking to see if she was still breathing. Thankfully, he could just make out shallow breath sounds that seemed to be getting slowly stronger. Her face, however, remained disturbingly pale and lifeless. He desperately tried to think of something to do, clutching her still form closer to him. Sitting down on one of the wooden benches, he rubbed his hands quickly up and down her arms in an attempt to warm her up. He clutched her to his chest; willing her to wake up, to be alive.

Ever so slightly, her eyelids fluttered. Cupping her cheek in his hand, he could feel the warmth returning to her body. Her eyelids fluttered again, this time opening fully and catching sight of his face looking right at her. She smiled weakly at him as he once more pulled her tight to him, hardly daring to believe that she was all right. Once satisfied that she was generally well, he stood and hurried towards the doors.

Harry sprang to his feet as they exited, catching only a glimpse of his sister; pale and swathed in a black cloak, as Mr Malfoy passed him on the stairs with Kathryn in his arms. The three of them followed him at a quick pace, along with the other teachers and Professor Dumbledore, going in the direction of the hospital wing. Harry's heart sank when he realised where they were going, thinking the worst. He pushed those thoughts from his mind; knowing he wouldn't be taking her to the hospital wing if she were dead.

They watched as he removed his cloak from around her shoulders and lay her down on a bed where Madam Pomfrey was waiting. He then retreated to the opposite side of the hospital wing and watched as Madam Pomfrey bustled about; checking her pulse, feeling her forehead for any traces of a fever and spooning a large amount of a purple liquid into her mouth.

Harry watched in relief as, slowly but surely, the colour returned to her cheeks and a smile returned to her face. It seemed apparent that, although the curse had sapped most of her energy and just missed out on claiming her life, there were to be no lasting side effects. This did not, however, persuade Madam Pomfrey in any way that she was able to leave the hospital wing. In all the fuss that was being made, no one noticed Mr Malfoy disappear out the door of the hospital wing and down towards the dungeons.

He returned later that afternoon with an abashed Draco at his heels. The conversation stopped as they caught sight of him in the doorway. Kathryn's face, which had previously been smiling at something Hermione had said, froze into a hard line somewhat akin to Professor McGonagall's expression when you hadn't done your homework. Malfoy did not move, glaring back at the three of them.

When it became obvious that he was not going to do anything, his father intervened. In one swift movement he had taken his cane and given his son a sharp whack across the back of his shins, forcing him forward into the room. He shot his father an angry look as he walked towards Kathryn's bed; Harry, Ron and Hermione standing defensively beside her.

"Sorry." He muttered quietly in an annoyed voice, he clearly thought he had nothing to apologise for.

"What was that?" she asked dryly, cupping a hand to her ear. "I don't think we heard you."

"Sorry." He repeated in a louder, still angry, voice.

"Fine." She accepted his apology in a blasé voice, not looking at him. "Try not to be such a sore loser next time though, I mean, you should be used to us beating you by now." She shot him a wry smile, enjoying watching him silently seethe, unable to retaliate. "Now, run along," she shooed him away with a wave of her hand, "aren't there some owl droppings waiting for your attention?" they all laughed quietly as he walked away, his cheeks pink with embarrassment. That was what they had been laughing about when Malfoy had arrived; as part of his detentions he had to scrub the owlery clean, without magic. Mr Malfoy gave her an almost imperceptible nod before following his son out of the hospital wing.

"I know exactly what Mad-Eye will say when we get back home." Kathryn sighed, a smile still on her face. "What was I doing turning my back on a known enemy with a wand in his hand?" the three of them laughed even more, knowing Mad-Eye Moody, the legendary ex-Auror, well enough that he would be disappointed in her.

That evening after she had finished her dinner and, of course, after Madam Pomfrey was satisfied that she was fit, she left the hospital wing. She did not, however, head for the Gryffindor common room. Instead she walked through the deserted Entrance Hall and down the front steps into the grounds. She removed her flip flops and padded barefoot across the lawn to the far edge of the lake where she settled herself on the grass and let the water gently lap around her ankles.

It was a balmy June evening, still light and with plenty of warmth still in the air. She lay back on the springy grass and looked up into the branches of the blossom tree she was sitting under. The creamy-white flowers floated down softly on the warm breeze, settling in her hair. She did not know how long she lay there, watching the sky slowly turn from pale blue to a deep pink as the sun sank below the horizon. She closed her eyes after a while, listening to the sounds of the evening and allowing herself to completely relax.

She wasn't surprised to hear another set of footsteps walking along the edge of the lake; in truth, she almost welcomed his being there. She did not acknowledge his presence, keeping her eyes closed. She heard the sound of someone sitting beside her and only then decided to speak.

"I wondered when you'd show up." She felt fingers toying with her long tresses of black hair.

"You're still pale." He remarked, his fingers brushing her cheek. She opened her eyes and looked up at him.

"Thank you." She said, sitting up and bringing her knees up to her chin. "I know full-well that you could have left me to die." She hugged her knees tighter to her chest. "A job well done."

"Why would I want that?" he moved closer, apparently unconcerned of their position being in full view of the castle. Darkness, however, was fast falling, and soon they would not be visible from the lit windows of the castle.

She rested her chin on her knees and looked across at the castle as he moved around to sit behind her. She felt a pair of hands slide around her waist, pulling her gently towards him until she was leaning against his chest. She was surprised that he did nothing more than hold her, his head resting gently against hers as she watched the colours of the sky reflected in the lake. It was disarmingly comfortable, and soothing in a way she could not describe.

"It's nearly the holidays." She commented as they sat there, not really knowing why she said it.

"I'm sure I'll be around."

Without another word she slipped from his arms, grabbing her shoes, and dashing away on tiptoe around the bank of the lake and back towards the castle.

"I'll definitely be around." He added once she had gone.

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A/N - The 'descending from mid-air bit is inspired by the end of Beauty and the Beast.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N - Right, the summer holidays have arrived. The Dursleys are terribly tedious and one of Dudley's friends crosses the line...much to his misfortune. Panic is caused and slight escape is found...or at least, it was for a day or two...then things find you...

**15/01/10 - CHAPTER REVISED AND UPDATED!!!**

As always, I hope you enjoy thic chapter and leave me a little review to spur me onwards!!

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All too soon their trunks were packed and the end of term feast was over. They said goodbye to Hagrid on the station platform, being slightly winded as he pulled them into a huge hug. As expected, Malfoy turned up to try and get his revenge without any teachers nearby. As usual, he, Crabbe and Goyle ended up stuffed in the luggage rack, oozing slightly and looking like rather large slugs, thanks to the multitude of jinxes and hexes that had been sent their way.

They exited the barrier that separated platform nine and three quarters from the Muggle world together. Not far away there was a large group of people waiting for them. Mr and Mrs Weasley were there in their Muggle-best. Tonks, this time with waist-length blue hair, Lupin and Moody stood beside them; Moody swathed in an oversize raincoat and a bowler hat to hide his wooden leg and roving magical eye. On the other side were Fred, George, Bill and Fleur; Percy still noticeably absent. Hermione's parents were also there, standing behind the Weasleys. Mr Weasley looked itching to engage them in conversation, probably wanting to question them about electricity, post-boxes or something like that. And finally, behind Lupin, stood Sirius; positively beaming to see them back.

Mrs Weasley got them first, pulling them into a huge hug. She gripped Kathryn extra tight, nearly breaking down over how worried they had been when they had got the owl from Harry explaining what Malfoy had done. Whilst Ron and Ginny said hello to their brothers and Hermione hugged her parents, Harry and Kathryn went over to Sirius. He clapped Harry on the back, giving him a quick hug, before turning to Kathryn. He had a look of concern in his eyes, searching for any visible scars or blemishes left by Malfoy. He looked almost disappointed that there weren't; sparing him the joy of being able to go and knock seven bells out of Draco. Once satisfied that there were none, he laughed and lifted her off her feet into a hug.

She caught a fleeting glimpse of the Malfoys leaving the station. Malfoy was walking quickly and Kathryn could just make out several angry red boils on his pale face. She laughed as Sirius set her down, although she stopped suddenly as she caught sight of another group of people. Standing as far away from their group as possible were the Dursleys.

She, like Harry, hated the Dursleys. There were as anti-magic as they could come and deeply resented Harry and Kathryn for being related to them. In their turn, Harry and Kathryn deeply resented them for hiding Harry's past from him for ten years. The entire group followed them as Harry and Kathryn pushed their trunks over to where they were standing. Dudley, their elephantine cousin, cowered behind his bony mother whilst their Uncle Vernon's face turned a deeper shade of purple. Sirius stood behind them, a hand on each of their shoulders. He was only their Godfather, but he cared for them like they were his own children.

"Well," Kathryn said, trying to sound as light-hearted as possible, "see you in a week then." They both said their goodbyes to Sirius, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, the Weasleys, Lupin, Moody and Tonks. Moody raised his bowler hat slightly and glared at Uncle Vernon with both his eyes as they followed Harry and Kathryn out of the station.

Part of the ancient magic that protected them from Voldemort meant that they had to return, only once a year, to where someone of their mother's blood resided. And so they did, for one week every summer they lived under the Dursley's roof before going back to Sirius in Grimmauld Place. They spent the entirety of the journey in silence, jammed in the small seats right at the back of Uncle Vernon's new people carrier whilst Dudley took up the majority of the main back passenger seats. The pair of them shared amused smiles as their Uncle grumbled away about the traffic, cyclists or the state of the roads whilst their Aunt shot nervous glances at them in the rear-view mirror every few minutes. Dudley, despite his bulk, was doing his best to make himself as small a target as possible; hunching against the window.

They unloaded their things in silence once they arrived in Privet Drive, giving Mrs. Figg a wave before dragging their trunks through the front door. Instead of heaving them up the staircase, however, they disapparated with two small 'pops' and reappeared upstairs in time to hear Aunt Petunia's shriek from downstairs. They laughed as they positioned their trunks against the wall below the window, not bothering to unpack them, just leaving the lids open so they could grab what they needed.

Harry let himself fall backwards on to his bed with a relieved sigh, not because he was back in Privet Drive, but because he knew he only had to stay here for a week. Kathryn, meanwhile, settled herself on the slightly small, rather lumpy old mattress that the Dursleys had provided when they realised that they had to put up with two Potters. It was covered with some threadbare blankets and one flat pillow sat at the head. She flicked through that day's copy of the Prophet before grabbing a quill and beginning the crossword.

They stayed there until they heard Uncle Vernon bellowing that dinner was ready, the smell of roast lamb wafting through the half-open door. They wandered slowly downstairs only to find two bowls of watery stew being shoved into their hands before they had even made it to the kitchen.

"The Polkiss' are here, now take that and be quiet." Aunt Petunia hissed at them before hurrying back into the dining room. Piers Polkiss was Dudley's best friend and had tormented Harry for as long as he'd known him. In truth, they were grateful to have avoided dinner with the Dursleys and they carried their meagre meals upstairs with smiles on their faces.

"Well, that was a bit of an anticlimax." Kathryn sighed, regarding the contents of her bowl with suspicion. "I could smell lamb."

"I don't think we're worthy of a nice dinner." Harry replied, also regarding his dinner with a similar air of dread.

"I think this might have been beef at some point." She held up a small chunk of greyish meat for him to see. "Not the most appetising sight."

"Definitely not." Harry replied and, in unspoken agreement, they spooned the mushy vegetables and meagre chunks of meat into the food bowls in Athena and Hedwig's cages before dumping the empty crockery outside the door. Both cages were empty at the moment, their occupants off hunting.

"Well, what do we have?" Harry asked, digging inside his bag. "Pumpkin pasty? Cauldron cake?" he asked, holding up what he had saved from the train with a smile.

"Mmm, both." Harry tossed them over to where she was sitting cross-legged on the end of his bed. "Thanks."

"Well, it's better than what they give us." He shrugged, leaning against the headboard. "I wouldn't be surprised if those were leftovers from a couple of weeks ago."

"They do look a bit washed out." She agreed, popping a piece of pasty into her mouth. "But, I do have an idea," she smiled mysteriously and walked over to the door, "give me a minute." Stepping out onto the landing, she could hear the sound of six people in the proper dining room, meaning that the kitchen was empty. Deciding to take the risk, she spun quickly and reappeared a second later in the kitchen. Hoping that the distinct 'pop' made when she apparated was muffled by the closed door, she delved into the fridge for something to drink and anything else that she felt they could spare.

"Dinner is served!" she smiled as she reappeared in their room, setting her plunder on the bed. She had managed to acquire several slices of cold roast ham, French bread, some stilton and a chunk of pâté.

"Not bad!" Harry laughed, inspecting the haul. "I'm sure Dudley's waistline can bear the deprivation!"

Their dinner of cold pumpkin pasty, the spoils from the fridge downstairs, cauldron cakes and Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans was much more appetising than what they had been offered, and they washed it down with the ice cold apple juice that Kathryn had also appropriated from downstairs. Once they heard the front door snap shut, they settled themselves onto cushions and played a few games of exploding snap until Uncle Vernon came storming upstairs demanding that they stop because, as it turned out, Piers Polkiss was staying the night.

They slept late the next morning, finding a plate of cold toast poked inside the door when they woke up. They shoved this into Athena and Hedwig's cages as they had done the previous evening and began to get dressed. They could hear the sounds of Piers and Dudley playing on Dudley's sixth PlayStation as they headed downstairs. Harry couldn't help smirking as he watched Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia squirm as Kathryn flicked her wand at the bread, which promptly sliced itself and jumped into the toaster. She even whimpered as the frying pan landed on the hob and bacon began to sizzle. They took their bacon sandwiches out into the garden to eat as the sun was shining brightly, sitting on the Dursleys new garden furniture and making sure that they left crumbs all over the tabletop. Their Aunt gave another faint whinge when they came back inside and, with a quick wave of their wands, cleaned up and sent the pans and plates sailing back into their cupboards.

Nothing was said as they headed out the front door and wandered off through the estate towards the children's play park. It was already busy with mothers sitting on the benches whilst their children played on the swings and climbing-frames. They all gave Harry and Kathryn suspicious glances as they walked over to the small hillock at the edge of the park.

"I'm somehow glad that Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia have created the idea that we are dangerous, criminally minded youths." Harry said as they sat down beneath the trees. "I mean, it really guarantees us time to ourselves." They both laughed, staring pointedly at the mothers who all gave them skittish looks; worried about the influence these 'criminally incurable' youths could be having on their dear children.

They stayed there for the rest of the day, briefly wandering down to the small local supermarket where they used some of the Muggle money they kept handy to buy a decent picnic lunch. They talked and laughed about Quidditch and ways to get rid of Malfoy, waving at old Mrs Figg as she passed, although they knew that she was probably watching them for the Order.

It got progressively later and, once all the children had gone home; some protesting loudly about having to get off the swings, Harry and Kathryn ventured down and onto the soft bark that covered the play area. They raced each other up the climbing wall and, once darkness had completely fallen, grabbed a swing each and bewitched them to fly higher than Muggles could make them. They laughed and screamed as they soared higher, stopping dead however, when they saw a group of people heading for the park gate. Leading the group was Dudley with Piers Polkiss right behind him.

"Oh spare us." Harry groaned as he spotted his cousin. "I thought he would have grown out of this by now." Despite the length of time that had passed since his childhood years at number four Privet Drive, the memories of the taunts and the bullying still touched a nerve.

Harry and Kathryn kept on swinging, although normally this time, pretending not to have noticed. They could hear Dudley boasting, rattling what sounded like money in his big meaty fist as the gate banged open.

"Did you see his face?" Dudley asked in a mocking tone. "He nearly wet himself!" His friends guffawed stupidly behind him. Dudley had always surrounded himself with rather stupid friends, acting as his muscle once he got into boxing. They reminded Harry and Kathryn very much of Crabbe and Goyle who seemed to always be right behind Malfoy. The fence rattled as the gate was slammed shut; Kathryn and Harry shoving their wands up their sleeves just in case.

"Been beating up more fourteen year-olds probably." Harry muttered under his breath as they kept on swinging.

"Hey, Big D." One of Dudley's cronies piped up. "There's someone else here."

"Kids know not to come here at night, if they know what's good for them." Another said, cracking his knuckles menacingly. "Have to teach them a lesson, we will."

"So whose sweet money did you still this time Big D?" Harry called out, capitalising on the fact that, despite being three times Harry's width, Dudley was mortally afraid of the pair of them. "You know the Listers' had to move away because of you. Jack wouldn't leave the house." Harry continued; using the gossip he had picked up from other people in the park during the day.

"Here, Big D, isn't that your cousin?" Piers said quietly. "Who's that with him?" he added; spotting Kathryn who was sitting with her legs crossed on the swing, her back ramrod straight and an icy expression on her face.

"Reckon we could take him." Dudley's other friend went on, continuing to crack his knuckles.

"I'd like to see you try." Kathryn said coolly, fixing him with a sceptical look.

"You watch; we'll tear your boyfriend to pieces."

"First, he's not my boyfriend, he's my brother." She corrected. "And second, well, second you're all idiots so we win hands down." She and Harry laughed.

"That's your cousin Big D?" Piers said in astonishment.

"Yeah, so what?"

"You never told us that you had a _fit_ cousin!" he drawled, making the fatal mistake of assuming that Kathryn was just a pretty face and no more. She jerked her head at Harry and they both stood up, walking straight towards Dudley and his gang and for the park gate that they were now blocking. Harry could see that Piers had just crossed the boundary and was going to pay for it and he couldn't wait to watch.

"What did you say I was?" she asked in a sweet voice, batting her eyelashes deceptively.

"I said you're good looking, that's what I said." He puffed out his chest as if hoping he was going to score.

"You know what Harry," she turned to her brother, "I think we should start living up to our reputation." Without warning she spun to face Piers and, with speed that they did not expect, slammed her fist into his nose. She felt it give a satisfying crunch beneath her knuckles.

"Dangerous, criminally minded youths." She finished, smiling dryly before she and Harry bolted; springing over the fence and streaking off into the estate.

"See you later ickle diddykins!" They cried as they ran, laughing as Piers howled in pain, writhing on the grass and clutching his face. They heard a dull clang followed by a grunt that sounded like Dudley had kicked the fence, finally stopping when they reached the lane running off Wisteria Walk and into Privet Drive.

"Nice punch!" Harry gasped, clutching at a stitch in his side.

"You weren't bad yourself." She said, gasping to catch her breath. "I saw you kick him before we legged it!"

"I've been wanting to do that for years."

"You should try it more often; it's really good for letting out all that tension and frustration." She laughed, massaging her knuckles as they walked slowly back to the Dursleys' house. Their Aunt and Uncle said nothing as they walked in the door and headed straight into the kitchen without a word. They both, however, heard Uncle Vernon mutter something that didn't sound very nice under his breath. They ignored him as they were used to his unremitting loathing of the pair of them, matched only by that of Draco Malfoy and his father. Helping themselves to a bowl each of the soup that was bubbling on the stove, they headed upstairs in silence.

They heard Dudley thunder in about a quarter of an hour later, yelling that Piers had fallen off one of the swings and had broken his nose. The wailing of an ambulance, mingled in with the shrieks of Aunt Petunia as Piers splashed blood on the carpet, soon followed this. Harry and Kathryn simply curled up beneath their duvets, transfigured from the pathetic blankets they'd had before, and did rest of the Daily Prophet crossword; falling asleep in the early hours of the morning before the Dursleys had returned from Casualty.

They spent most of the week like this, sleeping late and spending as much time out of the house as possible. They caught brief glimpses of Piers when he was with Dudley, although Dudley's bulk did block him from view most of the time. His nose was a mess, all strapped up with thick bandages. He was insisting that he had fallen off one of the park swings, not wanting to admit that a girl had broken his nose with one blow. They were relieved when, once the week was up; their trunks were once again packed and sat waiting in their room. They didn't eat breakfast; instead pacing up and down the hallway waiting for the signal. All of a sudden there was a flash of red and gold flame and a single, long golden feather floated town onto the vigorously scrubbed carpet.

They swiped it up off the floor and ran through to the living room; peering through the blinds for any sign of wizarding life. There was only one person walking up the street. He had unkempt, straggly, straw-coloured hair and was wearing a shabby overcoat. He was certainly out of place in the neatly manicured Privet Drive.

"It's Dung!" Harry hissed, giving him a small wave as he looked at their faces in the window. The doorbell rang and the pair of them pelted out into the hall, skidding to a stop in front of the door. They could see the outline of a tall, well built man with long hair silhouetted against the glass. Opening it wide, Sirius came striding in, beaming at them both.

"Wotcher Harry!" Tonks, today with strawberry-blonde hair, came strolling through the conservatory doors; tracking dirt in from the back garden. They heard Aunt Petunia whimper from the living room.

"Hello Harry, Kathryn." Lupin came down the stairs, his young face prematurely lined and his hair greying.

"Are you all set?" Sirius asked, his eyes travelling across their trunks and their caged owls.

"All set. We've been ready to go since the day we got here." Kathryn said under her breath, knowing that the Dursleys would be listening intently.

"Shouldn't you say goodbye to your Aunt and Uncle?" Lupin asked, nodding his head in the direction of the living room. Even though they knew that the Dursleys wouldn't care if they came back or not, they stuck their heads around the living room door.

"Goodbye then." Harry said. Uncle Vernon grunted in acknowledgement.

"You never know, we might not have to come back next summer." Kathryn added brightly, knowing that this was the ideal thing for the Dursleys. They were sure that they heard Uncle Vernon whisper 'good' under his breath. Kathryn merely shook her head and turned back to Sirius, Lupin and Tonks.

"Oh come on, they wouldn't care less if we died." She grabbed her trunk, ready to leave. "Can we just go home now?"

"OK, on the count of three." Lupin took Hedwig's cage and Tonks took Athena's.

"One, two, three." They all disapparated, reappearing moments later in the hallway of number twelve Grimmauld Place and, being in a fairly large crowd, upset the curtain covering the portrait of Mrs Black. Cries of 'Ingrates!' 'Mudbloods!' and 'How dare you besmirch the house of my fathers!' followed them as they clunked upstairs with their trunks.

A red-haired, lanky, long-nosed person poked his head out of one of the doors.

"Hermione!" He shouted. "Harry and Kathryn are here!" A girl with bushy brown hair joined Ron at the door.

"Oh Harry! Kathryn!" She exclaimed, hugging them both. "The Dursleys were ok then? We were wondering if they were going to feed you or not."

"Harry!" Ginny's voice was added as she looked down from the floor above.

"Oh yeah, well, we think they tried to pass off last week's leftovers as fresh stew so we just ate the leftovers from the train." Harry explained as Ginny flung her arms around his neck. "Come to think of it, I'm starving."

"Me too, we didn't have breakfast." Kathryn apparated up the final flights of stairs to her room and dumped her trunk at the foot of her bed before running back down to where the three of them were standing.

"Ginny, seriously," Ron pulled a face as his little sister kissed Harry, "I'm your brother. There are things I'd rather not see."

"Whatever Ron." She shot back with a scowl. "You weren't exactly uninterested when Hermione got here this morning." Kathryn and Hermione tried their best to stifle giggles, but weren't very good at it.

"Mum's in the kitchen." Going slightly red, Ron steered the conversation back to food, jerking his thumb towards the stairs. "I'm sure she'll be eager for more mouths to feed." Laughing and chatting, they all made their way down to the basement kitchen where Mrs Weasley was busy preparing lunch; tossing a large bowl of salad whilst potatoes peeled themselves in the sink.

She fussed over them, immediately placing sandwiches in front of them the minute Ron mentioned that they hadn't eaten breakfast whilst the five of them talked over what they had missed during the week.

Although she was glad to be home, and happy to see Sirius and her friends, Kathryn wanted to be away again. She couldn't bear what she was feeling. After a week spent with the Dursleys, she was ecstatic to be back where she belonged, but she couldn't keep her thoughts from wandering. The guilt welled up inside her as they talked about Malfoy and how it was outrageous that his Dad had not been brought in for being a Death Eater and she couldn't help wondering when she would next be seeing him. That night, once they were all gone to bed, she stuck a piece of parchment to her door telling them not to wake her up until lunch the following day.

In truth she woke at five o'clock the next morning after only six hours sleep. Washing and dressing quietly, she grabbed a bag and crept down the stairs and into the hall. She folded her still-wet hair up under a hat, masking her scar from view, and stepped out into the fresh morning air. Not looking back, she headed for the nearest tube station and sat on the platform waiting for the first train. It only took her a few minutes to get to Central London and Kings Cross station. Even though it was early, the station was already buzzing with life; shops opened for business and tourists arrived to consult the departures boards. It was also full of the usual early-morning commuters; men in expensive suits, their heads buried in the Financial Times and constant beeping coming from pagers or mobile phones. She headed over to one of the ticket desks and, within a matter of minutes, had purchased a first class return ticket to Paris on the next Eurostar.

They clunked slowly out of London and through the English countryside towards the coast. The pace picked up when they entered the Channel Tunnel and they shot through northern France; the lush green countryside passing too quickly for them to see any distinguishing landmarks until they made their approach into the centre of Paris. They arrived dead on time in Gare du Nord; emerging into the bustling centre of the French capital, bathed in glorious summer sunshine. Within half an hour she was settled in a small brasserie on the banks of the Seine sipping a strong black coffee and nibbling on a pastry.

Meanwhile, back in London, Harry was only just heading upstairs to wake her up. He crept quietly in and drew back the heavy, dark blue curtains that had been blocking out the summer light. He opened them to find an empty bed; neatly made and with no sign of Kathryn.

"Sirius!" He yelled out the door, pelting down the stairs. "Sirius!" Harry nearly collided into his Godfather as he ran upstairs.

"What?" he panted. "What is it?"

"Kathryn," Harry gasped, "she's gone."

"What? What do you mean gone?"

"Gone, Sirius, she's just not there!"

"No note?"

"Nothing." Harry ran his hands through his hair. "Sirius, she's out there somewhere," he pointed towards the front door, "alone, with no guard and with god-knows how many Death Eaters on the loose."

Kathryn, however, had no idea of the panic she was causing as she sat watching the Parisians go by. She received no odd looks, blending perfectly with her surroundings thanks to her being able to speak fluent French. She had practically spent half her childhood in Paris, having lived in a large house in the surrounding countryside. She had spent her teenage years visiting the capital nearly every day during the summer holidays and consequently knew where the wizarding community hid itself and where she could go if she didn't want to be found. She wandered aimlessly down the everlasting boulevards, inhaling the unique scent of bread and pastries; freshly baked throughout the day in this bustling metropolis.

On a whim, she apparated to the top of the Eiffel Tower and spent a good hour just gazing at the clear view across the sprawling city. Little did she know of the frantic owls being sent to various people around Britain, including Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape, Mad-Eye Moody and Hagrid. There were also messages on their way to Madam Maxime, her old Headmistress, and her adoptive parents. She was half tempted to indulge herself in their restaurant, but decided instead to find somewhere to stay.

Wanting to remain as inconspicuous as possible, she went somewhere no one would think of looking for her. The Georges V was situated right near the Eiffel Tower. A doorman in a smart red coat with a gold trim gave her a warm smile as he opened the door for her and she stepped into the cool, opulent reception. She strode over to the unoccupied receptionist and, without hesitation, asked for a specific room. The receptionist tapped a few keys before giving her the price. Without a second thought, Kathryn handed over a Muggle credit card that she kept for emergencies. After all, Death Eaters were not likely to search for a wizard or witch in blatantly Muggle areas.

A few swipes and keystrokes later, the friendly woman was handing her a smart silver card-key and wishing her a pleasant stay whilst simultaneously pressing a small brass bell on the desk. A porter appeared silently at her shoulder and relieved her of her bag, leading her away to the elevators. Her room was on the top floor with a view of the Seine and a large balcony. She could see all the way to the Eiffel Tower one way and up towards Notre Dame on the other. She stood there for a moment, listening to the noises of the French capital below, before sprawling out on the giant bed and dropping off to sleep.

She woke up a couple of hours later feeling slightly bleary-eyed but refreshed all the same. She ordered her dinner from their room-service menu, which was impressive to say the least, and ate on her balcony. Sipping her wine slowly, she watched the sun set, gazing intently at the many glittering lights of the city sparkling to life. Although tempted to go out, she drew the curtains across the windows and crawled beneath the sheets, nineteen hours of being awake finally taking their toll.

Despite this fatigue, however, the excitement of being somewhere different woke her early. She showered and dressed, forfeiting her hotel breakfast in favour of a fresh pastry from the Patisserie on the street opposite. She meandered slowly up the banks of the Seine, making for her favourite café and only stopping to buy a newspaper. She spent the morning reading this in the café whilst sipping coffee, watching the world go by. She only abandoned her seat at midday when the time came to go in search of a good sandwich.

Meanwhile, back in London, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Sirius, Lupin and Mr Weasley had spent the morning combing Diagon Alley in search of her; questioning every shopkeeper yet trying to remain calm and unsuspicious. None had seen her and the met back at the Leaky Cauldron where they sat over a solemn lunch. Nobody talked much, staring down at their plates with troubled expressions. They had received an immediate response from everyone they had sent owls to, all promising their assistance and disheartening them further as it appeared that she had not gone, at they had hoped, to her old home in France.

"She can't have been kidnapped." Harry said numbly, poking at his slice of pie with his fork, not really hungry. "I mean, no one can find Grimmauld Place unless Dumbledore tells them." He said in a slightly lower tone.

"Well, yes, but there's nothing to say that they didn't get her after she left the house." Sirius said in the same, lifeless tone.

"But she left that note." Hermione said, also poking at her food.

"You know what she's like Sirius," Harry looked his Godfather in the eye, "you know how she will randomly decide to go somewhere. Only this time she didn't tell us."

"Well, she didn't want to be caught, did she? Look at that note." Ron said as they arrived back at Grimmauld Place that afternoon. "She wanted to be long gone by the time we realised that she was missing."

"And she's had a tough year Harry." Hermione added as they gathered in Harry and Ron's bedroom. "You know, Malfoy attacking her twice, that accident in the greenhouse and, to cap it off, having to play nice with a Death Eater." She tickled Crookshanks who was sprawled on the bed beside her. "I mean, she probably just wanted some peace and quiet and I for one don't blame her."

"Well, yeah," Ron began.

"But just sneaking off is dangerous! At least the other times she's gone away she's had a guard or something." Harry thumped the mattress with his fist.

"Harry, she can take care of herself." Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's not like she's helpless."

Paris, meanwhile, was suiting Kathryn fine. By Thursday she had reacquainted herself with one of her favourite places on earth. She even caught sight of some of her old friends; fashionably dressed and gazing longingly into the windows of the boutiques. They did not even recognise her as she breezed past them into the shop. How far away that life was now; those carefree years she had spent wandering the boulevards. She didn't say hello, not wanting whispers of her presence to spread. The next day, as she strolled down rue Faubourg-Saint Honoré with several bags slung over her shoulder, she could not shake the nagging feeling that someone was watching her. It was the kind of feeling she got when she and Harry were staying at Privet Drive; knowing that the Order of the Phoenix were watching her.

Diverting her attention she headed away from the crowds and for the nearest metro station. She rattled through the tunnels until she got to the river bank again; wandering slowly across Pont Neuf until she came to the middle of the bridge where she stood and looked down the Seine. She did not notice the person standing a few metres away from her, too busy watching one of the many tourist boats float by.

Without a backward glance, she walked the rest of the way over the bridge and ambled up the street alongside the river. She picked up one of the Muggle newspapers from a little kiosk and leant against the wall reading it, still unaware of the person following her. She finally noticed the presence when she caught sight of a pair of black shoes poking out of the bottom of her paper. As well as the silver tip of a cane. Taking a steadying breath she lowered the paper and smiled.

"So you know I've gone." She said dryly.

"Whispers did reach my ears."

"I wondered whether you'd come looking." She folded the newspaper and tucked it under her arm, starting to walk again, following the river.

"You're pretty hard to find." He continued, following her as she walked.

"I didn't want to be found."

"You told me where you'd come." In truth she had, mentioning it months ago when talking to the Governors after the ball; explaining about how she had grown up in the city and where she' stay if she ever went back.

"I'll be more careful in future then." She said dryly, raising an eyebrow as she looked at him.

"So, do you have any plans for the rest of the day?"

"I was just going to mooch about, that's all I've been doing really. Why?" glancing at the road, she darted over with him still behind her.

"Well, I could buy you dinner." He suggested once they were on the opposite pavement.

"You expect me just to abandon the take-away for some expensive restaurant do you?" she laughed, starting to walk up the street in the direction of her hotel. "Well, I think I could just about do that."

"Seven?"

"Seven." She nodded before disappearing inside the hotel reception.

She reappeared three hours later, dressed to the nines in a figure hugging crimson dress with a scooped neckline and a large, chocolate brown fur stole draped artfully over her shoulders. He was waiting for her in the foyer, dressed in his usual black. They walked in silence down the banks of the Seine until they came to a fairly inconspicuous building, apart from the doormen in smart blue coats and top hats. Seated at a table on the sixth floor with a spectacular view, they ate the duck for which the restaurant was so acclaimed; watching the city light up around them. It was nearly midnight when they left and, when she caught sight of their reflection in a dark shop window, they looked like any other ordinary couple.

In an unspoken agreement he accompanied her all the way to the top floor and, without hesitation, followed her into her room. She tossed the key on the sofa and headed straight out onto the balcony, wrapping her arms about her against the chill in the air. She knew what would come next; trying her best to suppress the feeling of yearning that was building up inside of her. She kept her gaze on the Seine as she heard his footsteps on the tiles.

"You didn't want to be found." He stated, coming to stand behind her. "Or did you?" he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him.

"I didn't want to be found, that was the point."

"So, what were you running from?"

"Nothing."

"Where were you running from?"

"Nowhere. Don't try and trick me." A steely tone appeared in her voice.

"You can stop this you know." He whispered in her ear. "You don't have to humiliate yourself like this."

"If only I could believe you." She sighed. "A fragment of information would not satisfy you, only strengthen your belief that you will win." She said quickly, resigning herself to her fate. "You will not break me."

She surrendered to him, allowing him to lead her back inside where she let him take what he wanted. At least, that was what she told herself in an attempt to assuage her guilt. In reality, she could not reasonably claim that he was in any way forcing her. She met each advance with a passion of her own that she could neither control nor explain, and she relished the pleasure.

She woke that morning to find him, thankfully, gone. The crumpled sheets and pillow were the only signs that anyone had been there apart from her and they would soon be gone, along with the rest of the laundry. She packed her bag hastily, cramming her clothes in and slinging it over her shoulder. She tucked the small piece of parchment, bearing the number '32' in black ink, which had been on the pillow beside her, into her pocket. Within half an hour she had checked out and was walking towards Gare du Nord, clutching the numerous bags that held her shopping.

Within hours she was back in the lively hub of Kings Cross station and, in seconds, was standing before the door of number twelve Grimmauld Place. She knocked softly and waited for the door to be opened, having left her key in her room. Harry, who had been halfway down the stairs at that point, stopped dead in his tracks; making Ron and Hermione, who had been following, to walk into the back of him.

"Only one person remembers to knock." He said, his eyes widening. The next thing Ron and Hermione knew, Harry was running full pelt down the stairs to get to the hallway. Sirius and Mrs Weasley had also heard and come running. Harry opened the door and caught a brief glimpse of his sister before Mrs Weasley charged out the door and grabbed her in a bone-crushing hug, almost in tears.

"We thought something terrible had happened to you!" she said; trying to remain composed despite the tears that were running down her cheeks.

"Honestly, I didn't mean to scare you-" she tried to explain as Mrs Weasley hugged her again.

"Well it didn't work." Sirius said in a serious voice. "It was just plain dangerous."

"Excuse me. Who came to Kings Cross when they knew they could be recognised by a certain Death Eater? Don't lecture me about being careful." She shot back, an eyebrow raised.

"Alright, alright. Just don't do it again." Mrs Weasley said, trying to hold back sobs.

"At least, not without telling us." Sirius said with a small smile at which Mrs Weasley shot him a reproachful look.

"I was careful. I mean, I travelled the Muggle way and stayed in a Muggle hotel and everything. Death Eaters don't usually check in those kinds of places for a wizard, do they?"

"But if you were spotted." Mrs Weasley said in a croaky voice.

"I blend in." Kathryn explained. "I practically grew up there remember. I can disappear in Paris if I want to."

"Well, the important thing is you're safe." Mrs Weasley dabbed at her eyes with a spotty handkerchief.

"I really didn't mean to make you worry so much. I just wanted some alone time." She hugged Sirius and Mrs Weasley before heading out of the hallway and upstairs to her room.

Harry, Ron and Hermione appeared at her door as she was unpacking.

"I'm really sorry I just disappeared like that." She said, turning to face them. "I just needed some time to myself."

"See, I told you that was why!" Hermione said triumphantly to Harry.

"Well, now that that's sorted, did anything happen while I was gone?"

"Well, there were a couple of unexplained murders, one in Devon and the other somewhere in Liverpool." Harry said, closing the door behind them.

"Voldemort's getting braver, isn't he?" Kathryn raised an eyebrow. "Well, after three years it's about time, isn't it?"

"Oh Ron!" Hermione exclaimed as Ron shuddered at Voldemort's name.

"And the Dark Mark?" she asked, referring to the skull with a snake protruding from its mouth that the Death Eaters conjured in the sky after they'd killed.

"Hovering in the air above both houses." Harry nodded solemnly.

"The Muggles explained them away as early fireworks." Ron added, shaking his head.

"I'm worried about my parents." Hermione said in a quiet voice. "It's anyone's bet what Malfoy's told his dad."

"Sirius suggested moving them in here." Ron put his arm round Hermione's shoulders.

"But I don't think they'd be able to cope with that!" Hermione giggled at the though of her parents living here where it was highly likely that something would talk to you. "I mean, Dumbledore's said that they're safe."

"Then they're safe Hermione." Kathryn said firmly. "You can always trust Dumbledore."

"Well, anyway, was Paris nice?" Hermione asked, changing the subject.

"It was fine."

"Why Paris though, I mean, it's fairly close." Ron said.

"Well, I know my way around for a start. It's also more accessible by Muggle transport than Sydney or New York." She laughed, throwing dirty clothes in the laundry basket in her bathroom. "And it helps that I know my way around."

"See anyone you know?" Harry asked casually.

"No. I wanted to be alone, remember?" Kathryn lied, tucking the piece of parchment further into her pocket.

* * *

A/N - The restaurant they go to is my version of the Tour d'Argent in Paris.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N -Things take an unexpected turn...for better or worse?

Reviews are greatly appreciated, big or small, they make me smile and make me write faster!! Happy reading!

**10/03/10 - CHAPTER FULLY REVISED AND UPDATED!!!!**

* * *

That night she lay awake long after they had all gone to bed. Wrapped up in the white shirt she had acquired all those months ago, she stared at the canopy of her four poster bed, lost in thought; turning the piece of parchment over and over in her fingers. She knew exactly what it meant. In thirty two days, well, thirty one as it was past midnight, exactly a year would have passed. It also meant that she had thirty one days to figure out how she could disappear again. Igniting the parchment with the tip of her wand, she watched as the smouldering ashes floated to the floor, before snuggling beneath her bedcovers and drifting off to a sleep in which she knew Lucius Malfoy would appear.

Thirty one days later, Kathryn privately observed how fast time passed when you are dreading something. One moment you're wandering round Diagon Alley, shopping and spending your birthday with your best friends, and the next you're lying through your teeth to them.

"Well, Lydia's never been to England before." Kathryn explained as she finished packing a small bag, pronouncing 'Lydia' with a French accent. "And, I mean, I haven't seen her since I left France."

"So, where are they staying again?" Hermione queried from the doorway.

"Queerditch Marsh, or somewhere near it. Lydia's dad loves Quidditch. It's a holy shrine for Quidditch fans."

"And, where exactly will you be staying?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow.

"They're camping, so I'll probably be sleeping in a four-storey town house." Kathryn laughed, knowing how deceptive wizard tents could be.

"Well, it probably won't smell of cats." Ron said dryly, remembering their tent at the Quidditch World Cup. Once they had gone, Kathryn unpacked everything that they had seen her pack and swapped them for things more appropriate for where she was really going. Once this was done, she shrunk the bag and stowed it away in her handbag.

She hugged Sirius and Mrs Weasley goodbye in the kitchen, promising to be careful, before disapparating. She reappeared moments later at Queerditch Marsh. She found Lydia standing by the museum entrance; her once short, spiky red hair now strawberry blond and cut into an asymmetrical bob. After a brief hug, they wandered into the museum where the ticket saleswitch spent a good few minutes gawking at Kathryn's scar before letting them both in for free.

It was like she had never left France, the language still second-nature after four years. She prattled on in French to Lydia about life in England and Lydia responded in turn by telling her everything that was going on in France. Lydia was rather tearful when she said goodbye that afternoon, Kathryn lying about having to get back to London for a friend's birthday party.

Instead of Apparating back to London, however, she reappeared in Wiltshire; just a couple of miles from the Malfoys' front gate, in the small village of West Chisenbury. She walked slowly along the country lanes, admiring the view of the Salisbury Plain in the late afternoon sun. She had encountered a few people out walking their dogs not far from the village, but soon all she had for company were cows and sheep, with the odd rabbit diving into the hedgerow as she passed. This absence of life was explained as she spotted two small green signs on either side of the road. They both had '_PRIVATE_ _LAND'_ painted on in silver lettering and, although relatively understated, she had no doubt that any Muggles wandering that way would have no hesitation in obeying the unspoken command to keep out.

About another mile down the road, signs of a residence finally came into view. The sight of the great, iron gates at the end of the drive did nothing to soothe her nerves; the wrought-iron snakes that twisted and curled around the thick bars only serving to unsettle her more. She knew that she shouldn't be there. She knew that she should be at home with Harry, Ron, Hermione and Sirius; not walking straight into the lion's den.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped tentatively through the open gate, not really knowing what to expect, and shut the gate behind her. As soon as it was closed, the bars shaped like snakes moved; knitting together to form a very secure lock. If she had considered turning around, she was now trapped. She knew that he would be watching her and had no doubt sealed the grounds with an anti-disapparation jinx.

Turning to face the Manor, she caught a brief glimpse of a face in one of the upstairs windows before it disappeared. Keeping her head held high, not wanting to show any sign of weakness or fear, she walked straight for the front doors. They were opened before her hand had reached the doorbell. He even took her bag as she stepped across the threshold, placing it down on a chair before turning back to her.

"How on earth did your clothes get like that?" he asked with a frown, casting an eye over the six inches of mud that was caked on the bottom of her jeans.

"I've been at Queerditch Marsh all day; where I'm 'camping' for the next few days." She explained, making quotation marks in the air with her fingers when she said camping.

"You can change if you want, and there's food ready if you're hungry." He offered politely.

"Food would be good, I haven't eaten since lunch." She laughed slightly, grabbing her bag and taking the stairs two at a time to go and change. As she walked through the halls, she noted that all the paintings were covered with black curtains again.

She came downstairs in a fresh pair of jeans and top to find food laid out on a wooden table on the outdoor terrace at the back of the house. They sat there for what must have been nearly three hours, dining on cold meats, cheeses, pâté, French bread, summer fruit and just talking; staying away from the more controversial subjects and sticking to Quidditch, school, the future, Paris and anything else that was as far removed from Voldemort as possible.

They retreated inside once the night chill began to set in, Kathryn curling up on the large sofa in his study whilst he sat in a chair opposite.

"By the way, happy birthday for last month." He said after a few moments of silence, gazing at her with an interested expression.

"Thanks, it's not really that different to being eighteen though." She shrugged her shoulders.

"Well, special or not," he stood and moved to his desk, unlocking one of the drawers with a flick of his wand, "I found you something all the same." He withdrew a rectangular shaped box and, with another casual wave of his wand, it floated across the room and landed in her lap with a thump.

It was wrapped in thick black paper, tied very elegantly with a length of emerald-green ribbon. She unwrapped it carefully, rolling the ribbon up neatly and taking care not to rip to paper, whilst he surveyed her from his chair. Within the packaging there was a handsome, black leather box with a crest, inlaid with silver, stamped on the front. She depressed the small silver button to release the catch inside and opened the lid. A layer of black satin covered its contents and, lifting it back, she found some of the most beautiful jewels she had ever seen.

They were all emeralds, although not the rich, dark colour that she normally associated with the stone. They were paler and, if memory served her, a near perfect match to her eyes. There was a full set too, the bottom of the box lifting away to reveal more jewels below. Two pairs of earrings, two necklaces; one with a single pendant and the other studded with many large stones, a bracelet and a ring; all were set in what seemed to be the finest Occamy silver.

Kathryn was speechless, for the box alone looked expensive, and she knew he must have taken great pains to find a colour so close to her eyes. She was quite frankly astonished that he remembered what colour they were. He had, by now, come to sit on the sofa beside her and she stared at him for a moment, not really sure what to think. Anything that he had given her in the past had been purely for vanity, as he wanted her to look good beside him. But now, there was no other reason to give her anything aside from it being her birthday. For once there seemed to be no veiled agenda.

"You shouldn't," she began, although she was still unsure of what she could say.

"But I did." He smirked, the firelight flickering off his handsome features.

"They're very beautiful, thank you, but still…" She trailed off, not really going anywhere.

"They're beautiful, and perfect." He moved closer, taking the box from her hands and placing it on a small table. His lips feathered across her cheek, one hand on her back whilst the other ran through her hair. "Like you." He whispered in her ear. Moments later, now lying close to her on the sofa, he spoke again.

"I will ask you one final time." He looked right into her eyes, as if hoping to see something written in them. "Where do you hide? What do you plan?" she shook her head whilst trying to process what he had just said. What did he mean by 'final time'? She was distracted, however, a second later as she felt a pair of hands work their way beneath her top.

A couple of hours later, after finally making it to his bedroom, she stood in front of the bathroom mirror; freshly showered and drying her hair off with a fluffy white towel. Clad now in a skimpy dove grey silk nightdress, she stared at her reflection, not knowing what to think.

What was she feeling?

No longer did she despise herself for what she did, quite the contrary, she hated herself for enjoying it. She cast a guilty look out of the door and across to the bed where he was lying asleep, propped up against the headboard with several pillows. Setting the towel down and extinguishing the lamp, she walked slowly across the room; taking the moment to study what he looked like without having him watching her. She hesitated a moment at the foot of the bed, an arm wrapped around one of the carved posts, as she regarded the man before her. She knew that there would be no turning back from here and, when the end finally came, she would have to stand by what she had done.

Climbing up onto the vast bed, the silk and velvet counterpane soft to the touch; she crawled slowly on her knees until she was directly beside him. Slowly, almost hesitantly, she ran her fingers up his arm. His face remained impassive, not noticing the feather-light touch. Moving closer still, she, for the first time, sought out contact. Tentatively, part of her mind not believing what she was doing, she touched her lips to his. She pulled away quickly, not unlike the way people touch their toes into water to test the temperature.

Emboldened by this first foray into uncharted territory, she tried again; letting her lips linger there for a little longer this time. He still did not react. The third and final time, however, something happened. Just as she was about to give up, a hand snaked up behind her head to stop her from going anywhere. Instead of remaining lifeless, his mouth opened, meeting her advances with fervour.

Pausing for a minute, their eyes met and she could see his surprise at that she was doing. They stayed like that for a moment, as if taking the time to comprehend what they were doing and to decide if they were completely sure. That moment passed quickly, and she did not protest as he pulled her down beneath him. His hands whispered over the soft fabric that separated their skin, dragging it slowly over her hips until it slipped over her head. His every move was languid; his hands and lips tracing every curve and hollow, as if he had never seen them before. She was sure that he could hear her heart pounding desperately in her chest as she responded in kind, no longer afraid to show her emotions. With each gentle caress, he cemented the almost imperceptible shift that made her a woman to please, rather than demean.

Lying there, limbs tangled beneath the covers, with the first rays of dawn beginning to peek through the curtains, she no longer felt the urge to run. Instead of slinking away like she usually would have, she settled herself comfortably back into the crook of his arm; laying her cheek against his warm, pale skin. Though asleep, his arm shifted and wrapped loosely around her shoulders. With a contented smile, she closed her eyes.

When she awoke several hours later, the man she expected to find beside her was gone and a note had been left in his place. It read;

'_Gone to London, back later.' _

Despite the disappointment at waking alone, she reasoned that his absence gave her ample time to explore the house by herself. Without warning, the door swung open, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. To her surprise, and great relief, it was only a House Elf bearing a laden breakfast tray.

"Thank you." The Elf looked positively traumatised at being thanked so politely, it's eyes bulging widely. Without speaking, he, or indeed she, bowed low and practically fled the room. It was with a guilty conscience that she took a bite of the perfectly browned toast, knowing how appallingly the Malfoys treated their servants.

Once she was dressed, she spent a couple of hours roaming about the house, suitably startled by the hundreds of books pertaining to the Dark Arts. Once outside in the balmy august heat, she went in search of the unicorn she had seen all those months ago. She found it grazing at the edge of the wood, near the Manor's boundary. Staying very still, she threw a few sugar lumps onto the lawn in an attempt to entice her further out. She did come, albeit very hesitantly; eventually nibbling some of the sugar lumps off the palm of her hand whilst Kathryn ran her hand through its pearly white mane. She got as far as stroking her hands down its white flanks before it bolted; disappearing back into the trees.

As she ventured back towards the house, she spotted something she had missed. The Dursleys had one of these, collapsible, so it could be put away in the winter months, and although this was based upon the same principle, it was far grander than what could be found gracing the back gardens of the Muggle suburbs. Suspended between two trees, the seat had large dark green cushions and swayed gently in the breeze. Summoning one of her books from the house, she curled herself up and began to read. She did not notice the time pass as she sat there, a House Elf bringing her some sandwiches the only indication of the time of day, and nor did she notice the figure coming towards her until it actually sat down beside her.

"Evening." She put her book down, smiling back at him.

"You took your time." She observed as he swung his legs onto the seat and leaned back.

"Well," he leaned over and slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her towards him, "I am a very important man." He smiled wryly, running his hands through her hair.

"If you say so!" she laughed, snuggling further into the curve of his body; resting her head on his chest. After a moment, he placed his fingers on her chin; turning her head towards him and, acting on some innate instinct, she moved herself forwards. He kissed her again, as he had done the night before, holding her close to him; not caring for keeping things impersonal any longer. Kathryn was also quite content to remain there, despite not knowing where things stood anymore. It was a beautiful evening, and there were worse places to be spending it.

A few days later she was lying in bed late one afternoon, just talking to him as he stood by the window. Though he was dressed, albeit in his shirtsleeves, she had elected to remain in the deep blue silk pyjama bottoms that he had brought back from London. Normally she would have thought such things slightly tacky, but these were made from matte silk and looked anything but cheap. Teamed with a plain black vest, and lounging on several comfortable pillows, she felt quite the decadent young woman.

"My hair's straight today." She remarked, whimsically running the strands through her fingers. "Bad things happen on straight-hair days."

"Speaking of bad things," he said in a slightly grave tone from his vantage point at the window, "I think now would be the time for you to hide." Jumping out of bed, she joined him at the window and looked out to see the small forms of Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange making their way up the drive. Moments later, after a few hurried spells to make sure she hadn't left anything conspicuous lying round the house, he rushed her up to the second floor and into a small, nondescript room off the library. Pausing for a moment, he felt along one of the wood panels that covered the wall. Seconds later, it slid to the side to reveal a small chamber. With perhaps slightly more force than he intended, he pushed her inside and closed the panel.

The small room was pitch-black, with no windows to speak of, and she took a moment to adjust her eyes to the gloom before feeling clumsily along the wall for some form of light. There was a single candle bracket on the wall containing a lone candle. She lit it with a wave of her wand and looked around at her new surroundings. The room was carpeted and panelled in exactly the same way to the one on the other side. It was sparsely furnished, a surprise considering the opulence of the house; with a single mattress and pillow on a wooden bench that jutted out from the wall. This was covered by a sable fur, as dark as night and incredibly soft. Not knowing how long she would have to wait she curled up beneath it and, with some difficulty, drifted off to sleep.

It was past midnight when it was safe for her to re-emerge and, on opening the concealed door, he found the candle burned out and her still asleep; curled up in the fur. Being as gentle as possible, so as not to wake her, he lifted her into his arms. Still wrapped in the fur, he carried her back downstairs to more a more comfortable bed.

"I take it they've gone." She murmured, stretching out as he lay down next to her.

"Yes, but they took their time." He sighed. "Completely ruined my plans for the evening."

"It's not dawn yet." She reminded him playfully, giving him a coquettish smile from where she lay. "And I'm not tired." It was all the incentive he needed; his arms reaching out and pulling her towards him, a devilish smirk playing across his face.

She woke early the next morning and tiptoed out of bed; pulling on the long dressing gown made of a crushed, velvety material in a deep, royal blue that he had also brought back with his earlier that week. She opened the French doors and stepped out onto the spacious balcony, breathing in the fresh morning air. Her absence was soon noticed, however, and he joined her; wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his head on top of hers.

"I have to go home today."

"I know." He kissed her softly on the cheek.

"And school starts soon."

"I know."

"And?" she asked, waiting for him to elaborate on 'I know'.

"And, well, I'm a Governor so I'm bound to visit several times. And there's Quidditch, and Hogsmeade. Don't worry, I'll be around." He paused for a moment. "Why would I stay away when I have something so fine to look forward to?" he gave a small laugh, hugging her tight to him. "And I don't mean the fabulous highland setting!"

Only and hour later she was packed and ready to go; having promised to be back by ten that morning. She managed to resist his entreaties for her to stay for the rest of the day, although she did give in and allowed him to drag her down to the bed one final time.

She apparated back to London right on time, stepping through the front door of number twelve on the dot of ten o'clock to find everyone gathered in the hallway. Five minutes later, after running upstairs to deposit her bag and check that she looked presentable before pelting back downstairs again; she was standing in Diagon Alley.

It was very strange, she thought to herself as she strolled down the street with Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione. Precisely a year ago she had been doing the exact same thing and feeling the exact same way. The guilt of lying to her brother and her friends was gnawing away inside of her, she was almost fearful of looking them in the eye should they see a trace of deceit. Yet, at the same time, she felt strangely euphoric at the thought of this large secret she concealed.

She picked up her new uniform and Quidditch armour as usual, as well as replenishing her supplies of Fred and George's joke shop merchandise. They were still teasing Ron about being made Head Boy, announcing in pompous voices that they were closing the shop as soon as he entered.

"Extremely important person coming through!" Fred had shouted in a pompous voice, bowing before Ron.

"He cannot mix with mere mortals!" George had joined in, also bowing. They soon stopped when he threatened to tell their Mum about some of the unsavoury characters they sourced their ingredients from. Before the argument escalated, Kathryn produced an envelope of photos that she knew Fred and George would be very glad to see. The twins' eyes widened in awe when they saw the Creevey brothers' photos of their celebrations after winning the Quidditch cup.

"Pretty good." Fred said.

"Not bad at all." George added.

"Has anyone tried throwing them in a cauldron yet?" Fred asked inquisitively.

"No, why?" Kathryn asked, slightly suspicious.

"Well, let's just say that it would take about a week for stars to stop bouncing round the dungeons." George said with a smirk.

"Heard anything interesting lately?" Harry asked; changing the subject, as the twins were one of the best places to go for gossip and rumours thanks to the aforementioned dodgy sources.

"Not much." Fred shrugged his shoulders.

"People are scared mainly." George added with a grave look. "Don't want to let their children out of their sight unless they're going back to Hogwarts."

"The ones with Muggle parents are scared too."

"I think they've got a right to be." Hermione said in a quite voice. "I know I am." She added in a shaky tone.

"Don't worry Hermione." Fred gave her a comforting hug.

"Yeah, come on," George added, "its not like Dumbledore's not going to do his best to keep your parents safe. I mean, they're protected just like Grimmauld Place, so no Death Eater will be able to find out where they are."

"Even if they're staring through their front window." Fred finished. Hermione looked slightly happier, but still not totally at ease.

"What about seen?" Harry asked. "Have you seen anything odd?"

"Well, I'll tell you what we did see last week." George said in a dark tone.

"George and I went out to Florean Fortescue's for ice creams last week; you know, shut up the shop for lunch and everything." Fred continued his twin's sentence.

"And who did we see?"

"Who?" Ron asked, leaning conspiratorially on the counter.

"Lucius Malfoy." George said in a sinister voice.

"Strolling up the street looking happy as a clam."

"He's been happy ever since he missed out on going to Azkaban with his Death Eater pals." Harry remarked scathingly.

"He's been happy ever since his boss made his comeback." Ron added darkly. Kathryn stayed silent, not wanting to speak lest she revealed the true reason for his happiness.

Whilst Harry, Ron, Ginny and Hermione sat in Florean Fortescue's ice cream parlour, Kathryn went shopping and found several bags waiting for her in various shops. She pretended to have bought everything when she got back to the others, telling them that she had spent some of the Galleons her foster parents had sent for her birthday.

Before she knew what was happening, they were on the train, speeding further and further north. They were sat in the last carriage, despite having a carriage for the Prefects up the front of the train. They were all fingering the red and gold badges that had fallen out of their Hogwarts letters. Kathryn and Hermione both had one reading 'Head Girl', whilst Ron and Harry had identical badges that read 'Head Boy'. They had all been accompanied by a note from Dumbledore explaining their duties and why he had shared the task between them.

It had read;

_I know I will be accused of favouritism by delegating this task to the four of you but, in all honesty, you are the students I most trust to help ensure the safety of the school and its students through these difficult times. _

They accepted this responsibility; enjoying the perk of being able to boss Malfoy around, but also understanding that should the worst happen, they would be expected to help protect the students. The DA was still going strong; attracting more and more members each year as the concern over Voldemort's activities heightened. Of course, no Slytherins had dared to join, Malfoy and his cronies trying at every turn to disrupt meetings. Thanks to Hermione's coins, however, they were able to change meetings at will. Malfoy also did not have the Marauders Map, so they could not see strategically placed DA members ready to hex him if he got too close.

For once, he did not disturb them on the train, although they still kept a watch on him through the DA members throughout the train. Hermione had also been working on a spell not unlike the one the Death Eaters had used when they invaded the castle in sixth year. After they had briefed the Prefects in the front carriage, Hermione had conjured an invisible barrier at three different points down the train. If anyone bearing the Dark Mark walked through the barrier, they would be alerted.

Therefore, if Malfoy walked through the carriages at the head of the train, a puff of green smoke would appear in their compartment. If he passed the halfway point, yellow smoke would appear. And finally, if he passed through the door leading into their carriage, red sparks would appear; giving them time to hide anything important and prepare for the inevitable stand-off.

Once the train had pulled into Hogsmeade station, they, along with the other Prefects, ushered the new first years along the platform to where Hagrid was waiting to take them across the lake. Hagrid paused for a moment, beaming down at them.

"Never bin prouder of you four in all my life!" He said, his beetle black eyes creasing in a smile. "Firs' years!" He went on. "Firs' years this way." They waved goodbye to Hagrid and headed to the Thestral-drawn carriages that would take them up to the castle.

The feast was as magnificent as usual, although a feeling of unrest did seem to be apparent in all the students, old and young alike. Dumbledore, as well as the usual notices about staying clear of the forest, also had a grave warning to give to them all.

"Difficult times lie ahead and I know many of you are worried. Take comfort in the fact that the castle is well protected. I shall not, however, sugar-coat the facts. We cannot predict what Voldemort may choose to do, so I shall not lie and say that no harm can come to you whilst you are within these walls." He spoke in a serious tone, the hall remained quiet. The four of them noticed Draco Malfoy looking decidedly smug at the Slytherin table. "Should such a situation arise, I would ask you to look to the Head Boys and Head Girls as well as your teachers." Harry, Kathryn, Ron and Hermione stood up for a brief moment. "They will know what to do should we find ourselves in peril." He paused again, allowing this to sink in. "And on a lighter note, Mr. Filch would like to remind you that all Weasley products are _still_ banned." Dumbledore chuckled, knowing that such restrictions would not be observed. "Now, off to bed. Chop, chop!"

They were quite glad that they could leave the shepherding of the new first years to the Gryffindor common room to the Prefects. The four of them stood in the Entrance Hall, overseeing everything and redirecting lost students. They were ecstatic when they caught Malfoy bullying one of the younger students. Striding right up to him Hermione informed him that once term started properly, he had already lost Slytherin ten points; another perk of their position. Kathryn could see the malice in Malfoy's eyes as Hermione spoke to him and tightened her grip on her wand, believing him fully capable of violent retaliation. It did not come however; Malfoy simply sneering and stalking off to the dungeons.

"Despite what Fred and George say," Ron said as they wandered back to the common room, "I could get used to this. They won't notice if I just dock Slytherin ten points a week will they?" he grinned at Harry.

"Ron!" Hermione said tersely, crossing her arms and glaring at him disapprovingly. Ron didn't reply, giving the password to the Fat Lady instead, and climbing through the portrait hole into the common room. It was already deserted, everyone sleeping off the feast. The four of them followed suit; collapsing down onto the soft mattresses of their four-poster beds.

As with many nights, Kathryn lay awake, gazing up at the hangings. She seemed to be perfectly fine during the day but, once night came and she was alone in her bed, a surge of guilt would rush up through her body. She couldn't get comfortable and felt acutely aware of every noise in the dark dormitory. In the end she pulled the velvety dressing gown out of her trunk and sat staring into the last remnants of the fire until her eyes were no longer willing to remain open.

* * *

A/N -I will admit that the 'kiss' bit was nicked (inspired by!) from Pretty Woman...but it just has that feeling. As for the dressing gown, I was thinking something along the lines of what you see Padmé wear in Attack of the Clones, albeit slightly altered.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer - Everything belongs to the wonderful JK Rowling...although, as previously stated, I would happily adopt it!

A/N - The school year begins in earnest, as does the grand deception.

* * *

The first match of the Quidditch season came without the drama of the year before, with many Gryffindor members of the DA attending team practices so as to be on the watch for Slytherin sabotage attempts. They were, as usual, drawn against Slytherin for their first match and, in the days approaching the match, a knot of mixed dread and excitement developed in the pit of Kathryn's stomach. She knew he'd be there but she'd never actually found herself looking forward to it. One half of her mind was dreading lying to and deceiving her friends. The other half couldn't wait to be close to him again and didn't care for the consequences.

She went out to the pitch early after a small breakfast of toast and pumpkin juice. She sat for a long time in the teachers' box where he usually sat, hoping that he would show up. He didn't and, by the time the rest of the school started to show up, she made herself scarce; heading back to the team changing room where the rest of the team arrived in dribs and drabs.

She was silent as she yanked on her scarred leather gauntlets, irrationally angry at the fact that he wasn't there. She knew that she was reacting ridiculously; she shouldn't care if he was there or not. She hid her annoyance as they prepared to go out onto the pitch.

"I hope you're all ready to wipe the pitch with Malfoy's face!" She joked as they sped out, laughing to herself as she shot round the stands. Her heart soared as she saw him sitting in his usual seat. She gave him a quick smile as she sped past, diving for the centre of the pitch where Madam Hooch was waiting. She tried her hardest not to laugh in Malfoy's face as they faced each other; Malfoy once again trying and failing in his attempt to crush her fingers.

The balls were released and soon she was rocketing round the pitch, dodging Bludgers whilst trying to keep her hold on the Quaffle. Minutes later, the Quaffle sailed through the Slytherin centre hoop and Gryffindor were thirty points up. Malfoy's tactics of tailing Harry in the hope of catching the Snitch had not changed over the summer. She would have thought that he would have given this up by now as Harry easily outstripped him on his Firebolt. Nevertheless, Malfoy was there, a few metres below and behind Harry as he scanned the pitch for a glimpse of gold.

After nearly an hours playing and the score at Slytherin seventy and Gryffindor one hundred and ninety, Kathryn was beginning to wonder if they would be playing into the evening. There had been several attempted captures of the Snitch by Harry. All of them however had been foiled by either Bludgers being walloped at him or Crabbe and Goyle flying at him with deliberate intent to collide as he streaked towards the tiny golden ball. This had of course resulted in several penalties to Gryffindor who were, at this point, euphoric at the lead they had.

Kathryn watched Harry carefully whilst still fending off Slytherin attempts to score. As if in slow motion, she saw his body angle itself towards his broom handle as he sped off down the length of the pitch. As Harry, completely flattened against his broom, sped after the Snitch; Kathryn and the rest of the team put their plan into action. Fred and George had promised to keep their extendable ears off the market until they left Hogwarts so the four of them could use them in school. The other day, she had been walking up from Hagrid's hut when she had seen the Slytherin team training on the pitch. Giving in to temptation, she had sneaked into the stands and had listened to Malfoy telling them their tactics for the match. One of those had been 'if Potter goes for the Snitch just get in his way'.

To cancel out this interference, she and the rest of the team abandoned play and looped and swirled and dived to stop the Slytherin players from getting in Harry's way; cutting them off before they could even get near him. Moments later, Harry was clutching the cold Snitch in his fist; waving it victoriously to the cheering crowd. The final score; Slytherin eighty, Gryffindor three hundred and sixty. Dean Thomas was shouting this over and over again as the roaring crowds of Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws drowned out the heckling from the Slytherin end.

She didn't follow the rest of the team back up to the castle once they finally got back to the changing rooms. Instead, after spending a long time underneath the warm jets of water in the team changing room, she pulled on her worn jeans and a T-shirt. Walking out to stand on the crisp green grass of the pitch, she inhaled the warm afternoon air; savouring the silence and calm of the stadium before kicking off from the ground. She flew lazily round, practicing several tricky moves that she wasn't sure the teachers would approve of; particularly the one where she stood on her broom the way Muggles stood on skateboards. She finally toppled off when a strong gust of wind caused her to lose her balance. She lay sprawled on the grass laughing, gazing up at the pale blue sky with the wispy white clouds scudding across it.

A figure in one of the boxes caught her eye and she ventured up the tower steps, climbing them two at a time in anticipation. He was sitting, as usual, on the front row. She walked along the row behind him, sitting down behind him; where peoples' feet would normally go when they were watching a match. She slipped her arms around his neck, resting her chin on his shoulder.

"So no major improvements to the Slytherin team over the summer then?" she said in a casual voice, kissing his cheek.

"No, actually, I'm starting to favour Gryffindor in terms of the team that will cause me the least embarrassment." He smiled, turning his head to kiss her. He paused for a moment, placing his hands on her waist and guiding her down so she was sitting in his lap. He resumed kissing her, his impatient hands beginning to roam beneath her top. She gave him a coquettish look before pulling away from his hungry grasp and scampering back inside the stands.

Undeterred, he followed her all the way to the Gryffindor team changing rooms. He grabbed her about the waist before she could move and pinned her against the nearest wall; his hands working her T-shirt over her head whilst her hands unbuttoned his shirt. Within minutes, they were on the floor; giving each other what they wanted, no holes barred. She was quite glad that people knew that she was just staying to practice. People had said that she was going to miss lunch, but she had stayed in truth, not to practice but to satisfy another appetite.

She walked back to the castle with an added spring in her step, her cheeks slightly flushed. She only nibbled at her lunch before heading back upstairs to finish an essay. Her good mood, however, was dashed when Hermione presented her with the day's copy of the Daily Prophet. There had been several unexplained Muggle killings; the Dark Mark hovering in the sky above the houses. One had been worryingly close to where Hermione's parents lived. She was suitably diverted from her Transfiguration essay and spent the rest of the afternoon discussing the event whilst trying to keep Hermione calm. They also used the Room of Requirement to talk to Sirius and Lupin; making sure that the Grangers were alright. They let them in on the information that they were under the protection of the Fidelius charm, just as number twelve was.

This did seem to relax Hermione, although she could not settle back down to her homework and spent the rest of the day curled up next to Ron in front of the fire. Harry and Ginny spent the afternoon planning the next DA meeting; they were now alternating between beginner and experienced groups because it was so popular. Teachers had also started to try and plan their lessons to coincide with certain things they did.

Kathryn, meanwhile, wandered the corridors without any idea of what to do. The news brought by the Daily Prophet had unsettled her she knew it would only be a matter of time before the Death Eaters sought out wizard targets; putting everyone she loved in danger. She thought of the photo Moody had shown her and Harry, all the people who had died the last time; their parents, the Bones', the McKinnons', the Prewetts'. Although they had somewhere safe to hide, they were not safe when they were out in the open; not least Tonks and Kingsley for the simple fact that they were Aurors.

"Something on your mind, Miss Potter?" a kind voice asked from beside her.

"Oh, Professor Dumbledore, I didn't see you sir." She said, quite startled at his sudden appearance. Instinctively, she blocked her mind, not wishing Dumbledore to see too far. Occlumency had actually worked for her when Snape had taught them in fifth year. She had only known him a few months and, despite despising him, her hatred was not as deep seated as Harry's at that time. She had kept at it over the years, shielding her mind from those who she wanted to keep out, and was now quite adept at it.

"Just news, Professor, bad news."

"The Daily Prophet, I take it." He said in a sombre tone.

"They're getting bolder, it'll be wizards next. I mean, they have targeted wizards before this, but those were specific attacks. Soon they'll begin killing anyone they fancy." She stated, not looking into his eyes. "And then us." She looked into his twinkling blue eyes, her voice laced with dread.

"Now, now Miss Potter." He reassured her, placing a long-fingered hand on her shoulder. "We are much better prepared this time and I do not intend to lose anyone."

"But, Hermione's parents-"

"Are perfectly safe, as are you." His tone was firm but kind and she could do nothing to believe him wrong. "Now, I'm sure you have plenty of work to do, off you go." Kathryn did as she was told, for about five minutes, until she came to the nearest free window seat. Dumbledore had to be right, after all, he had survived worse. She thought back to the dark times when they had all thought Dumbledore to be lost.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer - Not mine...drat.

A/N - You can probably imagine, as this was started before HBP, I was slightly thrown by the rather MAJOR event of that book. The same day as reading it, I set about figuring out a way of returning our beloved Headmaster. Of course this is a wildly fanciful idea and is completely of my own invention...

Please note that this is a common or garden flashback and not a chapter in the wrong place!! The last sentence returns us to the present story timeline. Enjoy!

* * *

After Dumbledore's apparent death at the end of sixth year, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Kathryn had struck out on their own to try and find the remaining Horcruxes. They journeyed first to Godric's Hollow, after a brief sojourn at the Dursley's to renew their magical protection. It had been hard for Harry and Kathryn to travel back to the place where their parents had been murdered; partially due to the fact that they had to keep their every move a secret. Apparition had made this easier, however, and they were able to take a long, convoluted and, hopefully, untraceable route that Moody would have been proud of.

The house looked just like it had all those years ago when that curse had rebounded. The top corner had been completely blown away. After a few charms to gain them entrance, they had walked in with a mixture of excitement and fear. There was no evidence of the horrors that had come to pass within its walls, it was as if their parents had just gone and left one day; everything was coated in a disgusting amount of dust.

Out of respect for the house's status as a monument, they pitched their tent in the wildly overgrown back garden and only went in the house during the day. Hermione did break down, however, when she opened a room that had been decorated for a child and was filled with dusty, faded toys. It was the sight of the cot that had caused it; knowing that Harry and Kathryn's mother had met her death here just as well as the two people standing behind her.

The house had proven to be a goldmine of information with a wealth of rare, leather-bound tomes relating to Defence Against the Dark Arts, Potions, Transfiguration, Charms and Herbology. They had spent their summer flicking through these in the vain hope of finding anything pertinent to their cause.

When the first of September came around, they did not return to London to catch the Hogwarts Express despite receiving word that Mrs Weasley had taken the liberty of purchasing all of their school things. They remained there racking their brains for anything that could possibly help them until one day, in a fit of rage; Harry had kicked the aptly named kick plate that ran beneath the kitchen cabinets. After a few mice had scuttled away they saw, through the cobwebs and layers of dust, a book that they had missed.

After it had been wiped down, they sat at the kitchen table and flicked carefully through its brittle pages. Hermione had suddenly cried out in the silence.

"Stop! That parchment is new." They had turned back to the page in question to find a neatly folded piece of parchment addressed to the four of them in emerald green ink and in a style of handwriting they instantly recognised. It was from Dumbledore. They had opened it eagerly to read the note inside.

_I knew you would come here, right to where it all began (in a sense), although I doubt that you discovered the location of this book on purpose and would more like to imagine its discovery to have been the outcome of an angry outburst. _

Harry had chuckled at how right Dumbledore had been.

_Though the books you will have found here are important, this is one you must guard beyond measure until your return to Hogwarts. All I shall say here is page 366. Be careful, this is the only record. Good Luck! _

_Albus Dumbledore. _

Turning straight to page three hundred and sixty six, they found the instructions to a very ancient and very complex potion.

"What's it for?" Hermione had asked as she leant over Ron's shoulder to read.

"It's to reverse some charm that gives the appearance of death." Ron had told them. "Looks bloody complicated."

Realisation dawned in Kathryn's mind, thinking of what Snape had told the Order in a hurried letter after his disappearance. About the unbreakable vow and the reasons for doing what he did.

"Dumbledore's not dead." She had said in a quietly excited voice. "Do you get it? He knew about the vow Snape had made with Narcissa Malfoy, he knew what Snape had to do and he took measures to make sure it appeared real." She saw the same realisation dawn in their eyes too.

"Snape didn't speak when he cast the curse." Kathryn had whispered in excitement. "All we saw was a flash of green light and assumed the rest."

"We have to go back to Hogwarts." Hermione had said very quickly, taking a great gasp.

"Grimmauld Place first." Kathryn had corrected her. "We need our school stuff and some of the ingredients."

Their return to Hogwarts had caused uproar; with students and teachers flooding from their classrooms to see if it was true. They had accepted their welcome graciously before speeding off to the common room to prepare.

It had taken several weeks to do; brewing a large cauldron in secret was no mean feat and it had taken a lot to persuade Myrtle to flood the bathroom continuously. They had told no one of what they were doing, not wanting any word to reach Malfoy who, to their disgust, had been allowed to return to school after Harry and Kathryn's affirmations that he could not bring himself to kill Dumbledore himself. Lucius Malfoy had reared his head and, using his tried and tested Imperius defence, testified before the Wizengamot that his son had been under the control of the Imperius curse and was afraid to resist due to the threats against his mother. Like his father, he had escaped justice and was allowed to strut through the corridors once more; his status as a prefect and Seeker unsullied. In the eyes of many of the Slytherin girls; he was a hero who was prepared, at all costs, to protect his family.

The apparent death of Albus Dumbledore had also led to a major political upheaval; after less that a year in office, Rufus Scrimgeour was forced to resign after mass public uproar. To their great surprise, however, it had been Fudge that people wanted back as, so they said, at least under him they had not lost the greatest wizard of all time and Death Eaters had not been able to break into Hogwarts with such ease. Mere weeks into the holidays, Fudge was happily restored to his former office and was seen, on that very same day, having a long meeting with none other than Lucius Malfoy.

Snape had also been allowed to return to Hogwarts after, in a big announcement, Fudge had announced that Snape had not been the one to kill Dumbledore. Fudge knew nothing of his status as a spy and, they assumed with some heavy coercion from McGonagall, he was allowed to return, not too keen on informing their Potions Master what they were up to. They did not, however, oppose his return like many did; very much understanding that Snape was more useful on their side.

The most risky part had been stealing their final ingredients from Snape's store cupboard. That had been Kathryn's task as the other three would have fallen under suspicion too easily as Snape knew that Harry possessed an invisibility cloak but was unaware that Kathryn possessed one of her own too. One break, on the pretence of needing to do some research for potions in a quiet place, Snape had allowed her to use their usual dungeon. Once the Marauder's Map showed him well clear of the dungeons she had whipped out her wand and set to work breaking the charms protecting Snape's personal stock cupboard.

"Tut, tut Professor." She had murmured to herself as she heard the lock click open. "How lax, and after previous break-ins I'd have thought you would take wiser precautions." It had only taken her five minutes to gather everything they needed; Boomslang skin, Bicorn horn, six Bezoar's (she took eight for good measure), unicorn tail hair, one unicorn horn and dragon scales. She wasn't sure if Snape even noticed their absence, having rearranged everything to make it look as if nothing was missing; using one of Fred and George's fake wands that turned into a unicorn's horn to replace that rather obvious gap. Once all those ingredients were gathered, they only had to wait until the next full moon to add them.

Under the cover of both invisibility cloaks, they smuggled the steaming cauldron out into the grounds by the lake where they sat, hidden in the trees, watching as the potion bubbled away.

"Right." Hermione had stood up. "Now all we've got to do is add the final ingredients." She had pored over the list. Their last ingredient had been hand delivered to them by Charlie Weasley that morning; the heart of a dragon. A Norwegian Ridgeback to be exact. They knew it would upset Hagrid to know that they had killed Norbert but they also knew that he would give anything to have Dumbledore back. The potion had specified that exact heart and Norbert was the only male Norwegian Ridgeback Charlie had in the colony in Romania.

"Right." Hermione had read on. "First, two ounces of Boomslang skin." This was tipped into the cauldron, tuning it a vivid shade of pink as she stirred anti-clockwise three times.

"Now what?" Harry had asked, wishing almost at once that he hadn't.

"Blood." Hermione had told them in a small voice. "Of the person or people who stood beside him at his death."

"I guess that's us." Kathryn had said to Harry with a stony expression. "How much?"

"A pint, from both people." Hermione had spoken in a trembling voice, running her finger over the page. "Drawn with a silver blade." It was Kathryn who bared her wrist first.

"Just get it over with." She had said through gritted teeth as Hermione touched the blade to her skin and Ron held a beaker underneath. She had healed their wounds instantly and handed them both a small vial of a blood replenishing potion once they were done.

"Right." Hermione had added both beakers with trembling hands. "Now we need the unicorn hair. Wrapped around," she screwed up her eyes to read the small writing, "around the hair of those who have defeated the enemy before." She and Ron had trained their eyes on Harry and Kathryn at this point.

"Is anyone getting the feeling that Dumbledore actually wrote this recipe so that only we could manage it?" Ron had asked in the darkness.

"I'm beginning to think that." Hermione had agreed from behind the book. "Anyway, the hair." Harry and Kathryn had lifted the blood stained knife to their heads and sheared off a chunk of hair each before wrapping the brilliant white strands of unicorn hair around them and tossing the bundle in the cauldron. Then next things to go in were the Bicorn horn, a handful of Lacewing's and the six Bezoar's.

"We're onto the last couple now." Hermione had told them. "The dragon scales have to be mixed with the blood of a virgin." There had been some silence after she had said that. "Well, I guess I'd better do that."

"We resent that implication." Ron had complained.

"I didn't mean anything by it, just the other two have already given lots of theirs and we need yours later." She had said matter-of-factly as she drew the knife across her arm. Kathryn had swilled the contents of the beaker around a bit and tossed them into the cauldron, now an electric blue, as Ron and Harry repaired Hermione's arm.

"Thirty seven drops of Felix Felicis." Hermione had continued, counting out the drops of the gold luck potion. "Then," she read the book by the light of her wand, "the blood of one harmed in pursuit of the person's death. That's you Ron."

"OK." Ron then took his turn to draw the blade over his arm and let a small amount slosh into the cauldron.

"Phoenix tears." Hermione had continued to read.

"Thank you Fawkes." Kathryn had produced from the pocket of her cloak a small vial filled with a miniscule amount of clear liquid that she had managed to coax from Fawkes. She had dropped it in the cauldron, which took on a fiery orange glow.

"And, last of all, the heart of a dragon." Hermione had, at that point, withdrawn the glass jar containing Norbert's heart from her bag. "Thanks Norbert." She had whispered before upturning the jar into the cauldron. The contents of the cauldron had then turned a deep red and, after Hermione had given it the required number of stirs and spoken the words of the incantation, had changed to a brilliant white with a sparkling vapour floating on top. She had then produced four cups.

"We have to drink some." She had explained. "It uses our desire for the person to return to restore their strength." Once that had been ladled out, they each raised their cups in a toast.

"To Dumbledore." Kathryn said in the silence of the night.

"To Dumbledore." They had echoed before downing the surprisingly sweet potion, despite the odd ingredients.

"Right." Hermione had quickly taken charge. "Harry, Ron; lift the cauldron over here and we'll sort out the lid." They had done as they were told and followed Hermione and Kathryn over to the white tomb on the edge of the lake that held Dumbledore's body. Whispering an incantation, Hermione and Kathryn's wand tips blazed bright blue and they ran them around the sealed lid of the tomb several times; leaving a blazing mark where they had been.

"Wingardium Leviosa." Kathryn spoke and, at her command, the lid lifted into the air and settled on the grass a few feet away.

"Pour it in." doing as she told them, Harry and Ron had tipped the entire steaming contents of the cauldron into the tomb and Kathryn replaced the lid.

"Now we have to sit seven paces away from each corner for three hours." Hermione had instructed them, taking her place at one corner. They had counted their paces away and, once settled on the grass, waited patiently as the night progressed.

After three hours spent in near silence on the grass, something happened. In the pitch dark a brilliant white light had appeared at the gap created when Hermione and Kathryn had forcibly opened the tomb. All four of them had stood up, mystified by what was happening. Before she had time to motion to Kathryn to remove the lid again; Hermione had squealed in shock as the heavy lid was flung in the air and landed in the lake with a loud splash. The light was, by now, blinding them and they had watched through gaps in their fingers as a figure was lifted into the air as if by invisible strings. The bright light had continued to glow and, despite the light they were sure that they had seen long fingers flex.

The bright light had continued until the person had descended from mid air and was leaning against the now empty tomb. Cast completely into darkness, they could now no longer see the tall figure. Lighting their wands quickly, they had cast the thin beams of light across the ground until they reached a pair of feet poking out of a purple robe spangled with golden stars. Moving upwards they saw the end of a long white beard and a pair of hands with long, gnarled fingers. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the smiling face of Albus Dumbledore appeared.

"I was wondering when I'd be seeing the four of you!" he had said in a weak voice but with a definite hint of a chuckle. Hermione and Kathryn had actually been moved to tears by the sight of someone they had all thought lost. Moving quickly, Hermione had flung the dark red cloak that they had brought with them about his shoulders and Kathryn had handed him a knobbly walking stick. The four of them had stood tentatively before him, unsure of what to say or do.

"I believe that I am now in great debt to you all." He had said softly, spreading his arms wide as he leant against the white tomb. Forgetting all their reserve, they had rushed forwards into his open arms and he had held them as if they were his own children.

"I take it you found my clue. I'm sorry I couldn't have been more explicit." He had apologised as they hugged him.

"You were right about the way we found the book!" Harry had laughed.

"I thought I might have been." Dumbledore chuckled softly. "Now, I suggest that we all go back inside as it is frightfully cold out here."

"A cup of tea will do you some good." Hermione had assured him as they started to walk.

"Or a large brandy!" Kathryn had added, laughing slightly. "Oh wait!" she had stopped dead in her tracks. "There was something I wanted to do. It does not feel fitting that you sneak into the castle without anyone knowing."

"Go ahead." Dumbledore had told her. Smiling, Kathryn brandished her wand in several directions and, with a few murmured words; they saw tiny flames glow everywhere. At least, that was until the grounds exploded with showers of stars they recognised as Fred and George's fireworks. Lights had instantly flicked on in the castle and faces appeared in windows; looking down on the group approaching the front entrance.

"After you." They had said to Dumbledore as they approached the great double doors which, by this time, had been flung open.

"No, no, after you." He bowed slightly to them. "I feel that everyone should know who is responsible for this." They strode up the steps as fast as Dumbledore could go; Harry and Kathryn on one side and Hermione and Ron on the other. They had first seen the harried face of Professor McGonagall at the door.

"You had better have a good explanation for this you four, Miss Granger I'd expected better of you. Out of bed at this hour!" she had shouted at them, wrapped in her tartan dressing gown. "Causing such a racket at this, oh." She had frozen as she saw the figure of Albus Dumbledore following behind them.

"It can't be true?" she had said in a small voice. "Dumbledore?"

"Yes, it is I Minerva." Dumbledore had confirmed, striding into the Entrance Hall as if he had never gone away. The hall had instantly fallen silent, with many students staring from the staircase.

"How…how?" McGonagall had stammered.

"A trail carefully followed by these four here." He had gestured to Harry, Kathryn, Ron and Hermione. "And much personal sacrifice on their part." McGonagall had given the four of them a curious, disbelieving look before fainting straight onto Professor Flitwick.

"Nah! It can't be!" Hagrid's voice had then boomed from behind them as Madame Pomfrey rushed to aid Professor McGonagall. "Merlin's beard."

"Yes Hagrid, it is perfectly true." Dumbledore had reassured him. "Anyway, it is well past your bed time," he had addressed the rest of the gathered students, ignoring the current commotion around Professor McGonagall, "so off to bed and I assure that this will all be explained to you in due course. Chop chop!"

* * *

Kathryn wandered back to the common room, feeling slightly less troubled, but now worried about the inevitable face off between good and bad; where would she be standing?


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer - All characters and locations belong to JK Rowling and I just borrow them.

A/N - A short chapter here which sets a course of events in motion that will have serious repercussions later on...

* * *

Their first Hogsmeade trip came at Halloween and, naturally, the castle was full of excitement. The candles at breakfast fluttered as flocks of live bats swooped around the Great Hall and most of the first years, especially those from Muggle families, seemed too entranced by the sight to eat their porridge. They took no chances as they headed back up to Gryffindor Tower to get their tings; wrapping up well in cloaks, scarves and gloves to protect them from the bitter wind they could hear whipping at the windows. As usual, Filch was there to check them off his list as they passed the winged boars that flanked the school gates.

Whilst the third years, who were on their first visit to the village, goggled at the displays in Honeydukes and Zonko's; the more experienced students headed straight to the Three Broomsticks for a warm Butterbeer before all the good tables were taken. Managing to nab a choice spot between the fire and the window so they could indulge in a spot of people-watching, Kathryn got the first round of drinks in. They sat there, lazily sipping their Butterbeer, in no hurry to head back outside when they spotted something unusual. Two figures approached the doors and, although they were wrapped up in cloaks and scarves, they were still easily distinguishable. Her heart did a series of somersaults when she saw a long mane of blond hair and a silver topped cane, only to sink again when her eyes landed on the hooked nose and greasy black hair of Snape.

"Have any of you ever seen Snape out on a Hogsmeade weekend?" Kathryn asked in a hushed tone as they door closed behind the two new arrivals.

"Death Eaters just popping out for drinks!" Ron snorted derisively into his Butterbeer. "I knew Snape was up to no good."

"Ron!" Hermione hissed under her breath. "Dumbledore trusts him, therefore so should we. And no, Kathryn, I've never seen him out of the castle, save from when he's been at number twelve."

"Yeah, yeah. Look, Hermione, poisonous toadstool's don't change their spots." Ron continued to bicker.

"I'm sure he has a reason." Harry commented, although even his eyes didn't seem particularly convinced.

"He will." Kathryn agreed, trying not to look too distracted. She was glad that the three of them were facing away from the bar so they did not see him meet her gaze and give a small smile. They also did not see, to her great relief, her smiling back. She turned back to Ron and Hermione's bickering as they disappeared into the back corner of the bar and out of sight.

They reappeared about half an hour later, Snape leading the way back out. Kathryn, concentrating on not dropping their empty glasses as she returned them to the bar, almost walked headlong into Snape but thankfully she looked up just in time. Snape just gave her his usual disdainful look as he brushed past her towards the door. Keeping her face passive, she waited for Lucius to pass. Kathryn was sure she saw a hit of a smirk flash across his face before, very much intentionally, he bumped into her shoulder as he passed and she felt his hand slip in and out of her cardigan pocket. Starting, two of the glasses slipped her grasp and fell to the floor with a crash; colour rising in her cheeks as people turned their heads to see where the noise had come from.

Dropping to her knees and fumbling with her wand to repair the damage, Lucius gave her his most contemptuous smirk before brushing off his cloak and striding out of the door behind Snape. Wishing that the flush in her cheeks would go down, she hurried to the bar with the repaired glasses and an apologetic smile at Madam Rosmerta.

"Four more butterbeers please," she asked at the bar, getting out her money before adding a final drink on impulse, "and a shot of Firewhisky." Though she raised her eyebrows, Madam Rosmerta didn't refuse her request. Her hand shaking slightly, Kathryn threw the drink back and reached in her pocket to see what he had put there. Her fingers brushing against parchment, she pulled it out and, as Madam Rosmerta went to get her change, she took a peek. In hastily scrawled writing were the words _'15 minutes'_. Returning to their table, nothing was said of what had happened and they continued on with their conversation as normal.

They each went their separate ways when they left the pub; Hermione and Ron heading off to Honeydukes whilst Harry wandered in the direction of Zonko's where he said he'd meet Ginny. Kathryn, meanwhile, wandered away from the village; back up past the caves and onto the hill overlooking the village. She shivered as the biting wind whipped across her face, sending her hair flying out behind her as she walked. Standing to wait, she looked down on the village below; the streets bustling with students overloaded with bags and with smiles on their faces.

He was watching her as he stood there, from just around a bend in the path. She was very beautiful, he thought, even from the back. He was pleased to see her wearing something he had given her; standing tall and elegant, swathed in a long cloak of pure black with a matching fur trim. Unlike the normal Hogwarts cloaks which were without sleeves, it had been crafted to give the wearer sleeves that stayed beneath the main body of the cloak. It also trailed the ground slightly at the back, giving it a very flowing shape.

She did not divert her gaze when he rounded the corner and walked to stand next to her, but he saw a small smile tug at the corners of her lips. He noted the earrings and necklace that he had bought her sparking in the autumn sunshine and smiled again.

"Sorry about that, but I just couldn't slip you a note in the middle of a pub." He laughed, one of his hands finding hers in the folds of her cloak.

"And I couldn't just wander over and start talking to you, could I?" she laughed as well, squeezing his hand slightly. Letting go of her hand, he worked his arms around her waist beneath her cloak and she did the same, liking the way he held her tightly to him as he kissed her. The moment was not to last, however, as the faint noise of voices on the wind reached them. Reacting quickly, he grabbed her hand and pulled her over to the thicket of trees nearby. They stood, concealed in the shadows, as his son, Crabbe and Goyle rounded the bend.

"Did you hear something?" he asked, holding up a hand to halt Crabbe and Goyle. Crabbe and Goyle cracked their knuckles menacingly, as if preparing to pound someone. Malfoy, meanwhile, was beginning to nose about and was moving ever closer to the trees. They shrank back further into the cover of the trees, remaining as silent as possible.

"Come on." Malfoy shrugged, apparently satisfied that there was no one there, and wandered on up the path.

"I wouldn't advise that we linger here longer." He murmured in her ear once their footsteps had receded into the distance.

"I agree." She nodded, sliding her hand into his. Holding her tightly, he turned on the spot and they disappeared into the crushing void; re-appearing an instant later at his manor.

Exhilarated at their near discovery, and knowing their time was limited, they wasted no time in removing the layers of clothing that had been protecting them from the weather. Laughing as he lifted her up onto the bed, she did not once let the thought of what her friends would think cross her mind.

Later on, as they lay entwined beneath the soft cream sheets they talked of many things before he took the conversation to far more sensitive ground; touching on a subject that she would rather forget entirely.

"What should I get Narcissa for Christmas?" he asked, out of the blue.

"I wonder that you ask me!" She said in astonishment.

"I have no good ideas."

"That surprises me." She raised her eyebrows. "From what I've heard, Egypt is supposed to be a good place to visit at New Year."

"Egypt? Interesting." He mused, staring up at the hangings.

"And that is all I will say on the subject," she warned him, her tone far older than normal, "and I'd rather you didn't mention her again."

"My apologies." It was only when he saw the look on her face that he realised what a foolish question he had asked.

"I'm sure you'll find a way to make it up to me." She smirked, pulling him closer."

"I'm sure I shall." Rolling back on top of her, any mention of his wife was soon forgotten.


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer - I wish it belonged to me but it doesn't and I'll just have to get over the fact.

A/N - It's Christmas and an invitation arrives that puts her in his company outside of school, only this time she has to contend with something unexpected that she should really have foreseen. The New Year also brings a disturbing turn in events and her position looks set to change dramatically.

* * *

She did not see him much after that, teachers keeping them busy with piles of homework in preparation for their final exams in June. This was further complicated by their resolve to become Animagi. Sirius had put them onto it during the summer and they had been working hard at it since then. They did this in secret, using the Room of Requirement in the dead of night to read up on the theory and practice the skills needed to transform.

Animagi forms were generally similar to the Patronus you produce but personality did have an impact. Hermione, therefore, was quite adamant that she was going to end up as something cat-like, like Professor McGonagall, even though her Patronus was an otter. Privately, the rest of them thought that this was a hangover from her cat transformation in second year. Ron was still unsure, determined that he would end up as something silly like a pigeon, when he was more likely to end up a fox or something like that. For Harry, it only seemed right that his Animagus form would be a stag, just like their dad. Kathryn would've liked to be able to transform into a stag, but her Patronus had been a wolf ever since she had begun conjuring it and she felt that this was going to reflect in her Animagus form.

Two weeks before Christmas, an envelope made of thick parchment and addressed to her in purple ink landed on her plate at breakfast, delivered by an official-looking screech owl. She turned it over to see a large seal stamped on the back in matching purple wax.

"What are the Ministry of Magic doing writing to me?" she asked out loud, breaking the seal and opening the envelope. It contained, not a letter, but a piece of thick card with the same purple writing across it.

"You are cordially invited to the Minister for Magic's annual Christmas reception." She read out to the three of them. "To be held at the Berkshire residence of Cornelius Fudge on the twenty sixth of December." She continued.

"Well, someone's in the good books." Ron scoffed as he loaded his plate with bacon. "Dad's heard about that, never been to one though. He reckons it's how Fudge keeps all his rich pals happy, to keep them making generous donations. I bet Lucius Malfoy's right at the top of that list."

"I won't go then." She replaced the card inside the envelope.

"Oh no." Harry said with a mischievous look on his face. "Why not go and have a good time, just keep your ears open."

"After all, it's not snooping if you overhear it!" The four of them laughed.

They remained at Hogwarts for the Christmas holidays, quite sad that it was to be their last one in the castle. They would miss the twelve gigantic Christmas trees, the roaring fire and their battle through the snow to get to Hagrid's cabin. And that was just what they were doing on the first day of the holidays. It took them fifteen to twenty minutes to get from the castle doors to his cabin on the edge of the forest. Their teeth chattered as they knocked and waited for him to open the door.

"Get in, get in." He said, almost pulling them over the threshold to keep the snow from coming in. "Tea?" they nodded, removing their hats, gloves and scarves. They settled themselves into chairs, Fang lolloping about their legs. He settled his head on Ron's knee and began to drool over his cloak whilst Ron scratched behind his ears.

"So, last Christmas here then." Hagrid said, handing them steaming mugs of tea the size of large jam jars. "I remember when ye lot just arrived here and now look at you!" His beetle black eyes crinkled as he smiled. "You're gonna be the finest Aurors the Ministry's ever had. To think yeh firs' teacher was possessed by you know who and now yeh practically teachin' the subject!"

He set a plate of rock buns on the table which they nibbled with care, Hagrid's cooking having never been that great. Sure enough, the rock buns did have the consistency of actual rocks.

"And you, Kathryn." Hagrid turned his eyes on her. "Invited to the Minister's Christmas do. Never saw that coming did we?"

"Well, I will be listening carefully throughout the evening Hagrid. I'm not going to be there for fun." She rested her mug on her knees.

"Oh enjoy yourself, why don't ye?" Hagrid shook his head. "It's Christmas after all. But you watch out for our dear friend Lucius Malfoy, he was gettin' too close for comfort las' year." Harry, Ron and Hermione all looked at her with the same expressions that they had done last Christmas. "Knowin' what you know, it's easy to see what he was doin' and being polite didn't exactly help."

"I promise I'll be careful Hagrid, I was before." She smiled at him, placing a reassuring hand on his shovel sized one.

"Ah hang him; he'll get what's comin' to him, the good-for-nothin' Death Eater that he is." Hagrid dismissed the subject with a wave of his hand that would have knocked a grown man out.

"They all will Hagrid." Hermione's voice was sure, her face a steely mask of determination.

Their last Christmas was, as always, a spectacular affair. They woke to mounds of presents at the foot of their beds and spent a happy hour sitting in the empty common room opening them all. The castle was much emptier this year as there was no ball to stay behind for. Although this did give them the best chairs by the fire every night, it also meant that they had to suffer Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle at mealtimes. They were easily avoided however, and also easily seen off with a barrage of snowballs if they tried anything.

The three of them woke late on Boxing Day morning to find Kathryn already dressed and packed, ready for the trip down to London. After breakfast they waved goodbye to her at the front entrance as she drove away towards the gates in one of the Thestral-drawn carriages to avoid the thick drifts of snow. Once outside the castle grounds she disapparated straight to Grimmauld Place where Sirius was waiting for her. They ate lunch in the basement kitchen and then, as it was approaching three o'clock and she was being collected at five, she disappeared upstairs to change. After showering and drying her hair, she sat cross-legged on her bed in pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt to open a final parcel.

Like last year, she had received an anonymous parcel when she had been in Diagon Alley; although this time she knew who it was from. For a second time, she peeled back layers of tissue and silk to reveal another, beautifully crafted dress. It was green this time; an elegant creation of silk in deep, emerald green that perfectly complimented her eyes. Long and flowing, crafted from the softest silks, it had off the shoulder straps that flowed into the beaded, shallow V-neckline. She was happy to find that she already owned green shoes and a green clutch so she did not have to panic about having no matching accessories.

Once she was dressed, she laid the large, emerald studded necklace that he had bought for her birthday around her neck; adding the bracelet, earrings and ring to complete the look. Sirius looked stunned as she stepped into the hallway; she smiled nervously back, slightly worried about attending such a formal event that was not a school ball. She wrapped a chocolate brown fur stole around her shoulders to protect them from the bitter cold, hugged Sirius goodbye and stepped out into the square. She was stood there for a matter of seconds before a purple Ministry car arrived. The Minister's home was situated near the village of Chaddleworth in Berkshire and the journey was a comfortable one. Thanks to its ability to squeeze through the narrowest of gaps and foil traffic jams, they arrived in exactly two hours; right on time.

She was surprised to find a gaggle of photographers lining the path towards the front doors of Fudge's stately country home. Although, when she thought about it, there were going to be a lot of important people there and Fudge wouldn't want to miss the publicity. She smiled for them, standing for pictures in the way she had gotten used to. Once she stepped through the door she was met by someone she supposed to be a butler who took her stole. She was then shown into a cavernous reception room where Fudge and a woman, who she assumed to be his wife, were greeting their guests. She stood and waited, gazing round at the elegant room and the many people already there.

"Why, Miss Potter!" Fudge exclaimed upon seeing her. "How delightful it is to see you again." He took her hand and kissed it lightly. "My, don't you look wonderful this evening." His eyes ran over her dress and jewels.

"Thank you Minister."

"I don't believe you've met my wife." He gestured at the woman beside him. "Please allow me to introduce Sarah."

"A pleasure to finally meet you, Miss Potter." She said in a soft, friendly voice. She was quite pretty; with elegantly coiffed auburn hair, although Kathryn did notice that her face looked slightly strained. No doubt being the wife of the Minister for Magic wasn't as sugar-coated as it seemed. She would have been surprised if the stress of his job didn't have some impact on their lives.

She didn't recognise many of the people there, most were, she assumed, Ministry officials and the heads of various organisations and charities. She did recognise the Chief Healer from St Mungo's, having met him on a brief visit the year before. She could also tell, from the way they dressed and the way people addressed them that several of the people here were, effectively, the aristocrats of the Wizarding world; those who gave generously to give themselves power. Waiters in smart black robes were flitting about the crowd with trays of canapés or crystal flutes of champagne. She accepted one when offered, sipping it slowly, not really sure what to do next. Her interest peaked, however, when she heard Fudge greeting more of his guests.

"Ah, Lucius!" She heard him say. "Glad you could make it."

"Come, come Fudge. You know I wouldn't miss this." He replied. Kathryn turned round, a smile on her face, and looked across to where Fudge and his wife were standing to see not one, but two, blonde heads.

"And, of course, you know Narcissa." Fudge bowed to Mrs Malfoy and kissed her hand. Kathryn felt like the walls were closing in on her; all she could see was him and his wife and all she knew was that she was standing there in a room full of important and rich people wearing clothes and jewels that he had bought her. Moments later, their gaze met across the room and she felt her hand shake. She turned sharply on her heel and headed out onto the heated back terrace. She drained her glass and set it down on a table, being careful to avoid peoples' gazes as she walked towards the balustrade.

She braced her hands on the stone barrier separating the terrace from the lawns, willing her hands to stop shaking and her heart to stop pounding against her chest. How could she have been so stupid? She should have known that he would not be attending this event alone. She took several deep breaths, willing herself to calm down. Whilst stopping her shaking and returning her heart rate to normal, this seemed to draw more attention to the feeling of nausea that now lay in the pit of her stomach. Walking purposefully, she returned inside and headed straight for the table where canapés were spread out on silver platters. She hadn't eaten since lunchtime and, after swallowing several of the small hors d'oeuvres, the feeling of nausea subsided and she felt somewhat normal again.

People now began to approach her, introducing themselves and doing the customary double-take when she said her name. She ended up sitting on a sofa, listening to snippets of conversation going on around her and drinking more champagne. She thought that this was how she would be spending the rest of her evening when Fudge appeared at her elbow. She stood politely and found herself being led over to where the Malfoys were standing talking to the Chief Healer from St Mungo's. Kathryn reminded herself that they frequently made donations to the Wizard Hospital and was surprised that there wasn't already a ward named after them.

"Look who I've found." He announced when they reached the pair of them. "Sitting alone, now we can't have that, can we?" Kathryn tried to read his emotions in his eyes but they were blank; cold and grey, not like they were when he usually looked at her.

"Now," Fudge chattered on, "you know Miss Potter from school, obviously, Lucius. However, I don't believe you've met his wife."

"No." She looked straight at Narcissa Malfoy.

"Well, Narcissa, this is Kathryn Potter; Head girl, well, Joint Head Girl at Hogwarts." Fudge explained.

"A pleasure." She said in a cool, haughty voice, offering Kathryn a pale hand. Kathryn merely nodded and shook her hand for the briefest of moments, keeping her face impassive. "Joint Head Girl with whom?" she asked in the same cool tone.

"My best friend Hermione Granger." Kathryn announced bravely. Even though she was in the presence of the Minister for Magic, Kathryn was sure she saw Narcissa's lip curl. She had only met Hermione twice before, at the Quidditch World Cup final several years ago and then in Madam Malkin's before the start of sixth year. On both occasions she had looked at Hermione the way she would look at something nasty on the sole of her shoe. "My brother and Ron Weasley are Joint Head Boy too." She added, just to discreetly rub in the fact that her son had not been awarded the post.

They talked about trivial things for a while, Kathryn taking the time to discreetly study the woman standing in front of her. She was quite pretty, although rather pale and, like her husband, she reeked of money. Her blonde hair must have been about shoulder length but it was difficult to tell as it had been swept up into an elegant French twist. It was quite a contrast to Kathryn's relaxed waves that reached past the middle of her back. She wore an empire-line gown of midnight blue that reached the floor and had a necklace of matching sapphires around her neck, although it was not as lavish as the one Kathryn had around hers.

"Not long now." Mr Malfoy said to his wife, checking his pocket watch. "You'll have to be leaving soon."

"Leaving, so soon!" Fudge exclaimed. "Why is that?"

"My Christmas present." She explained with a smile on her face. "My wonderful husband is sending me to Egypt for the New Year!" She kissed him on the cheek and he smiled back at her.

"How lovely." Kathryn commented. "I've heard it's quite spectacular." She hoped that she was not blushing as she looked at the pair of them, knowing exactly why he was sending Narcissa away.

"It's a shame I can't come, but, work has to be done." He sighed, squeezing his wife's hand.

"Well, enjoy yourself. I wish we all had the luxury of being able to whisk ourselves away when we want!" Fudge laughed.

The Malfoys excused themselves not long after, heading out onto the terrace for a quiet word. Kathryn followed discreetly, standing hidden behind the dark red curtains that framed the large glass doors. She stood there, nonchalantly sipping champagne and listening to their conversation.

"So that's the famous Miss Potter, is it?" she sounded distinctly unimpressed. "Well, she is reasonably pretty, I'll grant you that. Although I can't see what people get so excited about."

"I have heard some call her beautiful." He offered by way of her defence. You for one, Kathryn thought with a smile.

"Well, they have no idea of lineage, do they?" she sounded put out by what he had just said. "And what was she wearing? I mean, how does she have the money to afford clothes and jewellery like that? It's not like she's descended from a wealthy family. And she is still in school."

"The rumours are that she is richer than most think."

"Well, no matter how much money she has, I don't see what made her think she could dress like that." she sneered. "That dress must have cost more than mine, I mean, look at how much silk there is." Lucius smirked discreetly, knowing for a fact that Miss Potter's dress had indeed cost more than his wife's.

"Well, she isn't a child anymore, Narcissa, and she is free to wear what she wants."

"That's as maybe but what about her jewellery?"

"What about it?" Lucius asked dryly.

"She can't actually own something like that." Narcissa remarked scathingly. "A teenager does not have the funds to buy a piece of that size; it must be on loan for the evening."

"From what I've heard, if she can afford to have her school uniform custom made for her by a couturier, then she could probably afford a piece like that." He remembered, having spotted one of the labels on the inside of her school skirt.

"Well, I find it insulting." Narcissa said in a superior tone. "It is like she is trying to be a pure-blood, trying to look like something she isn't. It is Miss Parkinson, not Miss Potter, who should be attending these functions dressed like that."

"I doubt that something so elegant will suit Miss Parkinson dear." Lucius commented. "She may be pure-blood but I doubt she has the elegance to carry an outfit like that off. Miss Potter, however, appears to be quite at ease."

"Lucius!" Narcissa gave a scandalised gasp. "Please don't tell me that you actually think her elegant? What would people say if they found out?" she sounded as if she thought the world was about to end.

"No, I am merely saying that Miss Potter demonstrates an amount of elegance and grace that Miss Parkinson, the girl that our son is seriously entertaining thoughts about marrying, has been severely lacking on the several occasions that I have seen her.

"Well, she shouldn't be here. I mean, where are the Flints? And the Parkinsons? The Notts? The Carrows? Some of the finest pure-blood families aren't here." She said in a barely audible tone that made Kathryn wish that she had an extendable ear to hand.

"Darling," he said in a hushed whisper, "there is a particular reason the Carrows cannot attend, if you'll remember."

"Oh, yes." Apparently, Narcissa had forgotten that the Carrows were both Death Eaters. "Still, some of the finest families are not here." She didn't seem like she wanted to concede defeat.

"Well, she does have a fairly high standing. I mean, apart from being one of the Potter twins, she's been a prefect and is now Head Girl at Hogwarts. She's also an amazing Quidditch player."

"Who keeps on beating our son, despite all he does to try and injure her!" Narcissa snapped.

"The fact that our son hasn't got half the talent she and her brother do is also a factor." Kathryn could imagine the smirk that would now be playing across his face. "I've seen her fly many times, and I'm telling you, serious injury will not stop that girl."

"Anyway, I personally don't think that she should be here. She's outclassed for sure." She sniffed haughtily.

"It's not up to you my dear."

"I know." She sighed. Moments later they returned inside. Kathryn quickly made herself as invisible as possible, backing as far up against the wall as she could to remain inconspicuous.

She watched them mingle for a little while longer from her vantage point on sofa by the fire. She saw Narcissa say her goodbye's to Fudge and his wife before kissing her husband goodbye and heading out the doors. Once it was certain she had gone, she saw him begin to discreetly search the room for her. She fixed him with a cool stare once he saw where she was and did not drop this look until he had made his way over to where she was sitting.

"Ah, ah." She said in a quiet, warning tone as he made to sit next to her. "Remember, to everyone here you're still a respectable, happily married man." She put some stress on the words 'happily married' but still spoke in an undertone. He revised his movement and took a seat on the chair nearby. "Besides," she went on in a dry tone, "I don't think you'd want to sit next to someone who, by rights, shouldn't be here. Don't you outrank me or something?" she sipped her champagne coolly, waiting to see his reaction.

"You heard?" he seemed genuinely shocked.

"Did you think I wouldn't want to hear what she has to say about me?" she laughed slightly, taking another sip of wine. "Thanks for the compliments, although they did nothing to change her mind." She smiled genuinely at him this time.

"Well, they're true."

"Only in the eyes of some. Oh, and thank you for the dress too. What do you think?" she gestured at her outfit.

"You are more beautiful than anyone in this room, and certainly not outclassed." She was surprised at the sincerity of his words. "Come on, Fudge was right, we can't have you sitting alone all night." He took her hand and led her back into the crowd of mingling people; introducing her to everyone he knew. She found herself shaking hands with innumerable Ministry bigwigs, many of whom came back for more; not believing that they were in the presence of one of the Potters.

Of course, Umbridge didn't look too pleased when Mr Malfoy reintroduced them; she looked disgusted to see her accompanying such a staunch supporter of the Ministry. She was her usual toad-like self and, as she excused herself, Kathryn made a small clicking noise with her tongue that sounded suspiciously like hooves. She gave a small chuckle as Umbridge jumped and looked wildly around for the source of the noise; at which Kathryn merely gave her a derisive smile that she had learned from him and turned her back on her.

Near the end of the night, Fudge got up and made a short speech, wishing them all a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. She and Mr Malfoy were stood quite close to Fudge, facing the assembled people as they were, according to Fudge, his particular guests. Malfoy for his many generous contributions to various charities, and she as a representative of Hogwarts. All through this, thanks to them facing the guests, people did not notice the positioning of his hand; which was mid-way up her back and toying with her hair.

It was past midnight when she finally said her goodbyes, many people hurrying over to shake her hand one final time when they realised that she was leaving. She bade Fudge and his wife goodbye one final time before heading for the front door. The photographers had long disappeared and she was surprised to see a sleek black car roll up as she stood under the porch shivering with her breath rising in front of her. She noted the crest of entwined serpents where the manufacturers label would normally be. Seconds later, he appeared at her shoulder.

"Hang on." She muttered, producing her wand and conjuring a sheaf of parchment and a quill. Resting the parchment on her hand to write, she scribbled 'Staying overnight at the Minister's, see you in the morning.' She folded this up and scrawled 'Sirius' on the front and, taking her wand, tapped it three times causing it to vanish in a burst of golden flame. She waved her wand again and the quill vanished. Taking his hand, she allowed him to help her down into the soft black interior of the car. The thought of what people would think if they saw this crossed her mind briefly. The driver was seemingly oblivious to the whole thing; Kathryn assuming that he was paid enough to be so.

Once they were out of the gates and on the country roads, he pulled her very close, giving her the opportunity to doze against his shoulder as they sped through the night. As she had half expected, he was not content to let her doze there for the entire journey, and began to get impatient as they drew closer and closer to their destination. Shifting her in her half-asleep state so that she was sitting in his lap, he gently landed kisses on her collarbone, working his way up her neck to her lips whilst his hands stroked through her hair and down her back and hers wrapped round his neck.

They arrived at his Wiltshire manor quickly thanks to the car's ability to foil speed cameras and they exited in a very different manner to the way they had been back at Fudge's home. Now, his arm was firmly around her waist, guiding her along as they headed for the front door. He paused for a moment before they entered; whipping out his wand and giving it a wave. Through one of the mullioned windows she saw the paintings on the wall freeze and then be shrouded in black curtains. As soon as that was done, he whisked her out of the cold and into the Entrance Hall. Like the gentleman he was, he removed the fur stole from around her shoulders, kissing her on the cheek as he did so, and went to hang it up whilst she placed her clutch on a side table.

He took her hand to lead her upstairs, but lost the contact when she slowed down. He stood on the landing, watching her as she walked slowly up the grand staircase; teasing him by keeping her pace deliberately slow. Just as she was about to reach him, he moved away, this time teasing her. A playful smile flitting across her face, she followed him to the bedroom door, looking in to find no sign of him. She walked slowly into the dark room, not knowing what to expect. She heard something move behind her and she span round to find no sign of the person who had made that noise. She turned again to find him standing in front of her. She pressed a finger to his lips as he bent to kiss her, instead placing a steadying hand on his shoulder as she removed her shoes and stockings and tossed them aside. This only made him smile even more, his lips meeting hers as he slid the zip of her dress down and let it fall to her ankles.

It was now her turn, slipping his suit jacket from his shoulders and loosening his shirt as she kissed him. Before long they relocated to the bed, he sitting against the headboard whilst she knelt in front of him. By now, she had realised that she had past the point of caring what would happen and was almost content to remain in this situation for the foreseeable future. He wasted no time in tossing her silken underwear aside and was soon doing what he had found himself to be increasingly craving as time went by.

They finally drifted to the deep recesses of sleep at around four in the morning; Kathryn nestled in the crook of his arm. He lay awake for some time, however, silently pondering these unexpected feelings that were building inside of him. Was it possible that he had grown to love the serene figure that lay sleeping beside him? It went against every principle he and his family had stood for for generations. He pushed these disturbing thoughts to the back of his mind, putting them down to tiredness and alcohol, soon drifting off to sleep beside her.

She woke the next morning to find him gone. Looking at a clock, she could just see that it was nearly ten in the morning and there was sunlight streaming through the frosty panes of glass. The next thing she heard was a slight rattling and he came through the doors, dressed in a relaxed shirt and trousers, with a tray balanced on the tip of his wand. He set this on the end of the bed before bending to kiss her.

"Breakfast?" he gestured at the tray; loaded with toast, bacon, coffee and pastries. She reached over to the bedside table and pulled on her glasses.

"You actually made breakfast?" she asked in disbelief.

"No, I carried the tray up!" he laughed, kissing her again.

She was back in Grimmauld Place by midday, lying half asleep on the sofa in her room, despite his entreaties for her to stay for dinner. At least, she was asleep until she heard the commotion of Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny arriving. She hurtled down the stairs only to crash headlong into them as they made their way upstairs. This caused chaos as the curtain covering the portrait of Mrs Black was dislodged and her screams rang through the house.

"Come on!" Kathryn shouted above the din and they headed up to her room whilst Lupin hurried past to sort out the portrait.

"Well, what was it like?" Hermione asked eagerly as Kathryn closed the door behind them.

"It was ok. Not really much to report." Kathryn said in an unconcerned tone, settling herself on her sofa in a manner not unlike the way a cat would curl up.

"They put you on the front page though!" Hermione whipped out the morning copy of the Daily Prophet and threw it onto the arm of the sofa. Sure enough, a smiling picture of Kathryn gazed up at them.

"They would do that, wouldn't they?" Kathryn sounded exasperated.

"For more see pages two and six to ten." Hermione read out loud before flicking through them. "Two is just about who was there, you apparently were Fudge's 'particular guest'." She read out to them, giggling slightly. "Lucius Malfoy was too though," she pulled a face, "eurgh, Fudge obviously has no taste. You wouldn't want to be considered in the same league as Malfoy, would you?" Kathryn shook her head, worried that she would blush if she talked.

"What about the other pages?" Harry asked.

"Probably Rita Skeeter on about how Kathryn's head is being enlarged by all this attention and how we should all be ignoring the pair of them!" Ron laughed, remembering the horrendous articles she had written about Harry during the Triwizard Tournament.

"The others, oh, they're the fashion pages!" Hermione sounded much more excited. The three of them crowded next to Hermione to get a better look. Another photograph of Kathryn stared out at them, the full length of the page this time. On the opposite page, there was a photograph of Narcissa Malfoy looking haughty as ever; a stark contrast compared to the warmth and friendliness that Kathryn's picture conveyed.

"There is only one word that could describe the outfit of Miss Potter last night;" Hermione read out, "style. Her dress and the way she complimented it with her jewellery and accessories speaks volumes of her innate sense of style. This girl definitely has it." Hermione paused. "Well they like you, don't they?"

"What else?" Harry asked.

"Blah, blah, blah; they go on about other people who were dressed well or, in some cases, those who were not."

"Why is Malfoy's wife there?"

"Erm, oh, here. 'The other fashion success last night was Narcissa Malfoy, wife of the Hogwarts Governor Lucius Malfoy. She showed that it is not only the younger generation who are capable of being stylish. She chose a classic look, again well complemented by jewellery and accessories. Could it be that these two epitomes of style have something in common? This reporter seriously doubts that the same person picked their clothes.'" Hermione finished reading. The rest of the pages were just full of pictures of the other attendees as they had arrived

"Not bad, not bad." Ron commented.

"The same person didn't pick your clothes, did they?" Harry asked, feigning concern.

"No!" Kathryn laughed.

"Yuk!" Hermione exclaimed. "If Lucius Malfoy picked my clothes, I'd send them back." The four of them laughed, Kathryn's stomach churning as she did, knowing it was highly likely that the same person had picked their clothes. "It's a lovely dress though." Hermione said wistfully.

"Hang on." Kathryn opened her wardrobe and pulled out the dress bag that contained it. She then dashed into her bathroom to change; reappearing minutes later to three stunned faces.

"Well?" she gave them a little twirl.

"It's gorgeous." Hermione said, awe evident in her voice.

"Pretty good." Harry agreed.

"Yeah." That was all Ron could add.

"Where did you get it?"

"Another mystery Christmas gift, I forgot to unwrap it back at Hogwarts." Kathryn explained.

"Like last year?" Harry's curiosity flared and, although he did not admit it, he was concerned about these mystery gifts that arrived for her.

"Yeah, no note or anything." Kathryn nodded before going back in the bathroom to change.

Once she was back in her jeans, she carefully steered the conversation onto safer waters; not wanting to risk accidentally letting something slip. They talked for hours, scanning the paper for anything mysterious that could be related to Voldemort. Nothing jumped out at them, the Death Eaters also apparently enjoying their Christmas holiday.

Their Christmas wasn't all that brilliant though, Hermione insisting as New Year approached that they should begin revising for their exams in June. This suggestion was not acted on, however, as they all had far too much homework to be getting on with for them to even think about revision.

All too soon their bags were packed and they had, instead of taking the Hogwarts Express, apparated back to Hogwarts. They pushed their way through the knee-high snow that blanketed the driveway towards the Entrance Hall and they arrived, after a fifteen minute slog, cold, wet and tired inside the cavernous hall. Once they had dumped their bags in their dormitories and changed into dry clothes, they headed back down to the Great Hall for a dinner of Shepherd's Pie. It was full of students just returned from their holiday and those who had remained in the castle. They did notice the absence of Malfoy anywhere as they walked through the corridors even though he had stayed at Hogwarts over Christmas.

This was explained, however, at breakfast the next morning. Malfoy was there as usual on the Slytherin table although they did notice that he looked slightly less full of himself than usual and other Slytherins seemed to be paying extra care around him, as if they were afraid of upsetting him. A minute or two before the bell for morning classes was due to go, Dumbledore stood up and the hall fell silent.

"Before you all go to cram your brains full of knowledge, I have a lamentable announcement to make. We must offer our condolences to Mister Malfoy on the unfortunate loss of his mother over the holiday period." Kathryn's heart skipped a beat. She looked quickly at Ron, Harry and Hermione who also looked stunned.

"The loss of a parent is possibly the most unpleasant thing one can experience." Dumbledore went on. Kathryn's stomach churned unpleasantly and she felt the colour drain from her face. She began to shiver slightly, the unpleasant way that you did when you're about to be sick. Hermione passed her copy of the Daily Prophet across the table, open at the obituaries page. Staring up at her was the same picture of Narcissa Malfoy that had been in after the Minister's reception. She took it and shoved it into her bag, trying her best to disguise her shaking hands.

"Our thoughts are, of course, with Mister Malfoy and his father during this distressing time." The bell rang and the entire school stood up, all heading out into the Entrance Hall and towards their first lessons. Ignoring Harry, Hermione and Ron's calls, Kathryn pushed her way through the crowd and sprinted up the stairs and towards Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. She splashed across towards the toilet cubicles through Myrtle's usual flood and slammed the door behind her. She had just locked the door and set her bag down when her stomach contents evacuated themselves with spectacular speed.

She knelt there before the porcelain toilet, vomiting until she dry heaved; her body convulsing, sweat running in little rivulets down her face. She finally extracted herself and stood before the mirrors, bracing herself on a sink. Her face was ashen, her hair messy and her hands still shaking. She was about to leave when she rushed back into the cubicle and vomited again.

She finally made it to the common room just after the bell went for the start of their second lesson. She walked slowly through the corridors, her arms wrapped tightly about her to try and stop her shaking. Thankfully, the Gryffindor common room was deserted when she climbed through the portrait hole and she dragged herself up the stairs to her dormitory. She pulled the paper out of her bag and tossed it onto her mattress before dumping her bag on the lid of her trunk.

She shed her uniform where she stood and kicked it into a pile by her trunk. Instead she pulled on the large white shirt that she had acquired in Dubai, the soft cotton soothing her slightly, and a pair of loose pyjama bottoms. She did not bother to pull back the covers of her bed. With one shaking hand she wrapped the dark fur throw that he had given her in the summer around her shivering body. Summoning the last of her energy; she waved her wand and, seconds later, the deep red hangings fell and blocked out the light streaming in the windows.

She lay there, curled up beneath the fur, for the rest of the day. Sleeping fitfully, her dreams were haunted by Malfoy and, for some reason, his wife who she now saw dead at every turn. In one of the few moments that she felt reasonably alright, she read the obituary by the light of her wand. It appeared that she had died whilst in Egypt; bitten by a Runespoor, a particularly venomous, bright orange, three-headed snake. Although it was completely unrelated to her, she felt inexplicably guilty. Waves of guilt washed over her again and again causing her to dissolve into a shivering wreck. She was in no way to blame, but she felt indirectly responsible for having suggested the safari in the first place. Terrible thoughts ran through her mind. Had he orchestrated the death of his wife? Had he done it to remove all obstacles out of his path to her? She shivered again and pulled the throw further up over her shoulders.

She was unaware of time passing as she lay curled up on her bed. She was vaguely aware of hearing a bell ring as she dozed, although she had no idea which bell it was. She did not even hear the dormitory door open and close as three sets of feet walked softly into the room, having fallen into a deep sleep. Hermione carefully pulled back the hangings and looked in on Kathryn. It certainly was a sight. She was curled up, completely enveloped in her fur throw apart from her head. Her face was deathly pale and every so often a small quiver ran through her body.

"Bleurgh!" Ron exclaimed in a hushed tone. "What's that smell?" he asked, referring to the slightly pungent smell that lingered in the air. Hermione looked around and spotted the pile of robes at the end of her bed. Lifting up the black cloak, she sniffed them.

"She's been sick, you did see how pale she went at breakfast." She emptied all the pockets of her uniform before dumping the lot in a laundry basket. She returned to the bed and placed her hand on Kathryn's forehead.

"She's burning up; no wait, now she's freezing." Hermione looked slightly worried. "Come on," she pulled back the coverings of the bed, "help me move her." Harry and Ron pulled the throw from about her shoulders and gently eased Kathryn's curled up form up the bed so her head could rest on the pillows.

"When did she get this?" Harry asked, fingering the shirt cuff. Kathryn flinched and drew her arm back.

"Does it really matter?" Hermione hissed in a slightly irritated voice as she pulled the covers back up around Kathryn.

"Just wondering." Harry was sure he had felt some stitching around the cuff, almost like a monogram.

"She got it last year, I think." Hermione told him, pulling the fur up over Kathryn as well. "When she was down in London on work experience. You know what she's like with pyjamas, one day she'll be wearing a strappy top, the next it's an oversize T-shirt." Hermione went on, replacing Kathryn's wand and glasses on her bedside table, referring to the fact that his sister never wore proper pyjamas.

"Ok." Hermione let the curtains fall, blocking Kathryn from sight. "Just let her sleep." She told them in a hushed voice before turning and heading out the room.

For the first time in weeks, Kathryn had a dreamless sleep. There was no Lucius Malfoy waiting for her at every turn, no bright green light and high pitched laughter; just blackness.

She woke up refreshed, albeit starving; having eaten nothing since breakfast the previous day. She could still taste stale vomit on her lips and smell it on her hair though and, before any of the other girls were awake, she was dressed and strolling towards the prefects' bathroom. She took a long shower, scrubbing away the traces of the day before and shampooing her hair until it smelled of passion fruit.

Harry, Ron and Hermione were stunned to see her at breakfast looking perfectly normal and wolfing down porridge and toast like she hadn't eaten for a week. Looking across the Great Hall she could still see Malfoy, looking very dour, probably still in a mixed state of shock and grief. Kathryn steered her thoughts away from this, however, not wishing to make herself ill again.


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer - Blah blah...not mine...etc etc

A/N - Positions are clarified in such a way that will have quite serious repercussions in the coming months. Please read and, most importantly, review!

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Their first Hogsmeade weekend of the New Year came, for the second year in a row, on the weekend of Valentine's Day. She had resisted all Hermione, Ron and Harry's attempts to set her up with someone in the weeks leading up to the fourteenth of February. She had refused every one of them, maintaining that she did not want the hassle of a boyfriend or the gossiping that inevitably ensued. As the weekend drew closer, the anticipation welled inside of her, as did the angst of having to again lie to her friends.

She had sent a letter earlier in January, offering her condolences. She'd had a response, delivered by a very stately looking eagle owl, in early February. Thankfully, it had arrived on a Sunday when Harry, Ron and Hermione were in the library and she was alone in her dormitory reading. It hadn't contained much. He thanked her for her sympathies and expressed his wish to see her, preferably sooner rather than later.

She was quite glad that it was Valentine's Day, as this gave her to opportunity to disappear and not be missed. Everyone was coupled up as they left the castle, apart from Harry who was meeting Ginny in the village. She waved goodbye to them as they reached the village, lagging back and pretending to look in the window of Honeydukes. She looked at the brightly coloured displays without actually seeing what they were, instead watching the reflection of all the students go by to make sure there were none of her friends to see where she was going. She did know most of the students that milled around, having taught them at DA meetings, but none of them approached her to suggest a drink in the Three Broomsticks or a walk to the Shrieking Shack.

She took her normal route, backtracking to the path leading away from the village and starting to follow it up; her cloak billowing out behind her as she walked thanks to the wind. Halfway up she stopped, instead deciding to try something. Ducking into the trees at the side of the path she took several deep breaths, concentrating very hard and focussing her mind. She willed for it to work, not wanting to have spent months practicing for nothing. When she reappeared however, she was no longer recognisable to anyone, having taken the form of a wolf.

It was a very strange sensation; she was still Kathryn only in a different form. She padded slowly up the track, getting used to her Animagus self; running and, when the chance came, scaring a rabbit that had popped out of its hole to have a look around. He was standing there as she padded round the corner. She stood there for a while, watching him until he finally noticed her. He did not seem at all unsettled by the apparent presence of a wolf, instead checking his watch impatiently. She moved closer so she was actually sitting in front of, and looking up at him.

"What do you want?" he asked, again checking his watch. Deciding to have some fun, she moved closer, stroking her head against his knee. She was surprised as he knelt down to stroke her head, running his hand down her silken, grey coat and tickling behind her ears. She looked him in the eye for a few more seconds and she saw something click into place.

"It can't be." He whispered. She gave a little tug at his cloak and then walked off up the path, pausing at the bend to make sure he followed. With a slight feeling of apprehension, he followed the wolf right round the corner until they were completely out of sight. He looked once more into it's eyes, which were an unusual shade of green, before slowly, right before his eyes, the wolf began to change. He stepped back in shock as, to his astonishment; Kathryn appeared where the wolf had been standing moments before.

"When did you learn to do that?" he asked, not moving as he was still slightly stunned.

"That's the first time I've ever done it." She told him with an excited smile on her face, walking a little bit closer. "I've been practicing for months!" She smiled even wider.

They were stood a foot apart, neither of them seeking out some kind of contact as they usually would have done.

"So," she began, not really sure what to say. "How are you coping?" it seemed the only logical thing to ask at that point. It was as if the death of his wife was hanging in the air between them, like fog that refused to lift.

"I'm doing alright." She took a moment to study him; looking at his expression and his appearance in general.

"Don't lie to me." She could see past the bravado. "I know you now too well to believe that."

"Honestly, I'm not lying." He laughed slightly, trying to shrug off her doubts.

"You're eyes are dark, you haven't been sleeping." She moved closer, daring to touch her hand to his cheek. "You've lost weight too." She moved her hands beneath his cloak to his now thinner waist.

"Seeing as this is a mutual exchange, you haven't been sleeping too well either." He ran his thumb along the dark circle beneath one of her green eyes. "And no, I'm not fine, not at the moment." He finally gave up.

"It's only natural." She comforted him, hugging him tightly.

"It was a shock." His voice sounded numb, as if he was reciting a practiced speech. "I'd just got an owl from her that morning telling me how much she was enjoying her trip and that she missed me." He held onto her, resting his head against the side of hers. She was sure, just for the briefest of moments, that, as he embraced her, she felt something wet run into her hair.

They walked slowly round the hillside for a while, hand in hand; not really talking, and just enjoying being near one another.

"Tell me one thing." She said as they sat, huddled together against the wind, on one of the many large boulders that protruded from the ground. "You didn't do it purposefully to be with me, did you?"

"What do you mean? Do what intentionally?" he sounded almost confused.

"Have her killed." She spoke quickly, as if she just wanted to say it and be done. "I couldn't live with myself if you did."

"I didn't." He said firmly, kissing her on the forehead.

"That's why I haven't been sleeping well." She confessed. "You can't imagine the things that have been running through my head." Her voice was strained now, as if she was trying to stop herself crying from relief.

"So neither of us has had the best start to the year." He laughed slightly; she also joined in, a large weight having lifted from her shoulders.

"True." They sat there for a little while longer, taking in the moment and deciding what to do next.

"So, do we stay here or go back home?" he finally asked, broaching the subject first.

"I suppose."

"Well, I'll just clarify things first." He told her, sounding almost businesslike. "There is no way that you are going to tell me anything, I mean, you've held out until now so I severely doubt you will give in any time soon."

"You're right on that one." She nodded. Inside, her heart was doing somersaults. She couldn't believe that he was actually admitting defeat.

"So, that said, are you prepared to go where this path will ultimately lead?"

"I guess I have to be." She replied, a tone of resolve in her voice. "It's not like I have much of a choice." To own the truth, she didn't really care.

"Well, no." He smirked, making her shiver slightly, but in a good way. If there was one thing he could do well, it was smirk; something that made her heart flutter as it held the promise of much more.

"How did I know that would be your answer?" she paused, trying to work out how she felt and then, giving in to her desires, kissed him. She felt his hands on her face as he kissed her back, moving down to bury beneath the folds of her cloak. Seconds later, they heard voices coming near them; students off for a wander. She cursed under her breath as she recognised one of the voices as Ron's, straightening her top slightly before disapparating with a pop.

Moments after they had disappeared, Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny rounded the corner.

"People said they saw her come up this way." Hermione said, looking around for any signs of life. "I'm sure I heard something here just before."

"She's probably off wandering Hermione, you know how she is." Harry reminded her.

"She can't have gone far anyway." Ron added, putting his arm round Hermione's waist.

"Oh alright." Hermione gave in. "I just thought she'd want to hang round with us."

"She doesn't like Valentine's Day anyway, Hermione." Harry said, knowing how his sister detested what she called an 'over-hyped couple fest'. "She probably just wants to be alone, or she's gone back to the castle.

How wrong they were, she was definitely not alone and definitely not in the castle.

"For some reason, I'm starting to like Valentine's Day." She said with a smile as he lay on top of her. He smiled back, kissing her again and rolling off her to lie by her side. His hands stroked lazily down her back, twisting her hair in his fingers.

"Well, the last one wasn't too bad." He pretended to go all pensive.

"This one is quite good too. I mean, I'm not standing outside in the cold anymore!" She giggled, snuggling closer to him as he turned to lie on his back.

"I didn't get you anything." He said, staring up at the hangings.

"Well, then we're even." She didn't really care.

"No, you should at least get something."

"If you say so," she sighed, "I'm not going to complain." She felt him get up from beside her and heard him pad across the room.

"Keep your eyes closed!" he called out to her. She laughed, but did not open them. She heard what sounded like rummaging in a drawer. After a couple of minutes rummaging, he settled back down onto the bed alongside her.

"Sit up." He asked her. She did so, clutching the dark green sheets around her as she levered herself into a sitting position, her eyes still closed. She felt himself manoeuvre himself round so he was sitting cross-legged behind her.

"Can I open them yet?" she asked him.

"Not yet." She felt the touch of cold metal against her collarbone. She lifted her long hair up off the nape of her neck as he fastened the catch.

"Now?" she asked again.

"Go on then." She opened her eyes. Lying around her previously empty neck was a string of rubies, red as blood, set in silver that looked as it had been crafted to look slightly worn. Looking down to her finger, she saw that it almost perfectly matched the ring that he had slipped into her pocket exactly a year ago.

"Beautiful." She said simply, turning to kiss him.

"Would I give you anything else?" he asked, wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her tight. She caught sight of the clock on the mantelpiece above the fireplace.

"I've got to go." She told him in a disappointed tone. "I've got to get some things before I go back to the castle." She explained.

"Do you have to?" he protested as she stood up and started to get dressed. "Just give me a list and I'll send them to you." He offered.

"Oh yeah, and that's not going to look suspicious at all!" She said sarcastically from the bathroom where she was rearranging her hair. "I'd say come with me," she poked her head out the door, "but I think people will notice us walking arm in arm through Hogsmeade."

"Buy them owl-order." He suggested.

"No, the next Quidditch match is in two weeks anyway. It's Hufflepuff versus Slytherin so I'll see you then."

"That's the same day as the Governors' visit. It'll be hard." He insisted.

"Request to meet the Head Boy's and Girls." She suggested, pulling on her top. "You're a Governor, it can't be that hard. I mean, didn't you do that anyway?"

"True."

"Just invite us to sit with you at the match, I'm sure at least one Governor will take a particular interest in Ron, Hermione and especially Harry and will want to sit with them." She said as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

"Won't your friends get suspicious?" he asked, a note of concern in his voice. "They were starting to last year."

"They've more or less accepted my 'being polite'." She made quotation marks with her fingers when she spoke about being polite. "Although they think I'm being polite far too often."

"Well, I must confess I never knew the Head Girl was this polite." He laughed, knowing he had touched a nerve when she playfully advanced on him, brandishing her finger.

"This," she pointed at him the way one would tell off a naughty child, "has nothing to do with my being Head Girl, as you know." He laughed even more, catching her fist as she wielded it at him, and pulling her down to kiss him.

"But I am exceedingly pleased at how, erm, polite you are." She couldn't help laughing as he kissed her, undoing all she had done to make herself presentable again.

After again sorting her hair and smoothing out the creases in her clothes, she wrapped her cloak around her shoulders; carefully positioning her scarf to hide the twinkling jewels that now adorned her neck.

"Two weeks then?"

"Two weeks." She nodded, taking time to kiss him goodbye because she didn't really want to go just then, and partially because he was doing his best to stop her from leaving.

She hadn't been altogether truthful when she had said that she needed to go shopping before returning to Hogwarts. It was just that she wanted to test out her new power. She walked quickly back through the castle gates, ducking into the shadows and transforming as soon as she was through. Then she waited, skulking patiently in the shadows until students started to come through the gates in dribs and drabs. She heard them coming before she saw them, her hearing amplified by her choice of transformation. She padded along behind them until they were nearly at the steps leading up to the main entrance.

She dashed forward, nuzzling playfully at Hermione's legs and causing them to stop. Whilst the three of them pondered what on earth a wolf was doing coming right up to them, Kathryn used her jaws to tug on the end of Hermione's long scarf. She tugged some more before running off in the same direction.

"I think it wants us to follow." Ron said, nudging Hermione and urging her to follow too.

"Wands out?" Harry asked. Hermione and Ron waved them at him.

"Do you really need to ask?" They all lit their wands as it was beginning to get dark, and followed the wolf round the side of the castle.

"There's nothing here." Ron complained as they rounded the corner, stamping his feet against the cold.

"Isn't there?" It was Kathryn. They all turned round, expecting her to be behind them. They turned back round to see only the wolf standing in front of them.

"Where did she come from?" Ron jabbered, pointing behind him.

"More importantly, where did she go?" Harry looked carefully at the wolf and then, as if someone had just slapped him across the face, he spotted it.

"She was always here?"

"Huh." Ron was nonplussed.

"Do wolves normally have green eyes, Ron?" Harry pointed at her eyes at which point Kathryn transformed back into her usual self.

"You did it!" Hermione shrieked. "Oh well done!"

"When did you finally get it?" Harry asked, still slightly stunned.

"In Hogsmeade." She told them, a beaming smile on her face. "I was bored so I wandered off to practice." She explained.

"We're definitely going to nail it soon, now that you've done it." Hermione sounded like she wanted to go and practice that very second.

"It's not so bad, you just have to think very hard and clear your mind of everything like you do for Occlumency."

"Well, that will only be the first time won't it? I mean Sirius just does it like that." Ron snapped his fingers to illustrate his point.

"Oh yeah, that first time you just have to crack it and you're away. That's what it was like for me anyway." Kathryn explained. "It's a weird sensation though, it's a bit odd having paws and a tail!" they all laughed, turning round and walking back up to the castle to get out of the cold.

"What about registration?" Hermione asked. "Technically you have to register once you become an Animagus."

"I don't know Hermione," Kathryn said, a mischievous smile playing across her face, "I'd quite like to remain safely anonymous like Sirius."

"But it's against the law!" She said in an undertone.

"Don't you think it's safer if we remain anonymous until Voldemort's gone?" Ron still shuddered when she said the name. "We don't know how many Death Eaters he's got in the Ministry.

"Good point." By now they had reached the portrait hole and were joining all the Gryffindors' who were jostling to get through.

"Oh hang on!" Kathryn said to the three of them before pushing her way into the crowd.

"Move along there; excuse me I'm Head Girl!" She shouted at the younger years, doing a perfect impersonation of Percy Weasley when he had been Head Boy even though she hadn't been at Hogwarts the same time as him.

"See, it's not that hard once you stop pushing each other!" She said to them once they had been calmed down and were climbing through the portrait hole with something that resembled order. Harry, Ron and Hermione laughed as they walked by her.

"If only Fred and George could have seen that!" Ron chuckled as he sprawled himself in one of their favourite chairs by the fire.

"Well, at least one of us has to take some kind of control." Kathryn said, sticking her tongue out at Ron as she walked past the three of them to the stairs leading up to the girls' dormitories. "And I hope you don't plan on sitting there for long!" She called out to him. "I'm bloody starving!"

Walking into her dormitory she pulled off her cloak and replaced it in her wardrobe. The second thing she did was remove the string of rubies and place them with the rest of her jewellery, most of which she had obtained through him, in the top compartment of her chest of drawers before locking it again. Without a second glance, she headed out the door and back down the spiral staircase; pulling on a thick, chocolate brown shrug-type cardigan over her unseasonably short sleeved top.

After dinner, whilst Hermione, Harry and Ron headed off to the Room of Requirement to practice their Animagi transformations, she headed off alone to the common room to try and finish off an essay that she had started on Friday night in an effort to have nothing to do on Sunday night. It turned out to be fairly easy and she was finished in half an hour, even with the distraction of the day's events weighing on her mind. She leaned back in her chair, glad that she would not have any homework to hurriedly finish off the next evening as she had Quidditch practice during the day and then a DA meeting after dinner.

Harry, Ron and Hermione still hadn't reappeared by nine o'clock, Kathryn presumed them to be even more galvanised in their resolve to become Animagi now that she had managed it. She headed up to her dormitory, feeling completely exhausted, to find a rather unexpected surprise on her pillow. Lying in a sliver of moonlight was a bouquet of two dozen perfect red roses; wrapped in black and red tissue and tied with a black ribbon. She blushed even though there was no one in the room and sat on her bed just looking at them or a while; it was the first time anyone had ever sent her roses. She unwrapped them carefully so as not to damage the flowers, then, rearranging the tissue into the shape it had been around the flowers; transfigured it into a black and red glass vase.

Once it was filled with water from the jug on her dresser, she gently placed the roses inside and set the vase on the window ledge in-between hers and Hermione's beds. She of course removed the card that had come with them and locked it away in her trunk, along with the letter he had sent a week or so before and the note that had been enclosed with her black gown the Christmas before. She fell asleep easily that night, curled up again in his shirt; his ring still firmly around her finger.


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer - It all belongs to JKR and we are eternally grateful that she thought of it.

A/N - Certain theories are devised by our favourite bushy haired know-it-all as things go on right under her nose. A certain person's position is also quite explicitly affirmed.

* * *

Two weeks later, it seemed that he had gotten his wish. Harry, Ron and Hermione were waiting in the Entrance Hall; in their smartest clothes with their Head Boy and Head Girl badges shining.

"Where's Kathryn?" Harry hissed at Hermione.

"She was getting dressed when I left the common room."

"They'll be almost finished by now, she'll be late!"

"Don't worry Harry, she wasn't going to take long." Hermione said in a calm voice despite the fact that her stomach felt like it had tied itself in several knots. They all jumped as a door closed in the quiet Entrance Hall and Dumbledore walked towards them, followed by the twelve Governors. They quickly formed themselves into a small line, waiting quietly as they approached.

"What's this Dumbledore?" they heard on of them ask. "You told us that there were four." They watched several of the Governors sweep their eyes over them to see who was missing. "Where's Miss Potter?"

"She hasn't gotten herself injured again, has she?" another piped up. They had by now reached Harry, Ron and Hermione.

"Well, at least the rest of you are here." Dumbledore said as he reached them. "Where is your sister?" he asked, turning to Harry.

"She'll be along in a moment Professor." Harry made this up, not really knowing how long she would be.

"No, she's here now." Another of the Governors spoke, nodding his head to the staircase. Sure enough there Kathryn was, the click of her heels on the steps announcing her arrival.

She walked down slowly, knowing that they all had their eyes on her. She could especially feel his gaze washing over her; dressed in dark, figure hugging jeans that sat perfectly on her hips and black suede boots with chunky heels that the jeans were tucked into. On top she was wearing a soft black shirt and a thickly knitted, long sleeved black jumper with a slash-neck that showed off her shoulders. It was a striking look; with her Head Girl badge gleaming brightly on her jumper. The elegant string of rubies, that Hermione, Ron and Harry thought to be a cheap piece of costume jewellery, glistened around her neck along with matching earrings and his ring on her finger. She had one thumb crooked in her pocket, her long, fur trimmed cloak draped over her arm. Setting it on the banister, she walked confidently over to where the rest of them were standing.

"Sorry I'm late Professor." She apologised, coming to stand in line next to Hermione. "Slight wardrobe crisis." She laughed, making sure to close her mind as to the real reason she was late. She had been ready to go down when she had caught sight of that morning's copy of the Prophet. It was lying open at the society section and it was the photo that had caught her eye. Smiling back up at her was Lucius Malfoy with a young, blonde woman, who must have only been in her mid twenties. She was very pretty and, looking through the article, he was pictured with several other young, very beautiful and, assumedly, very rich young women. It had been a charity benefit for St Mungo's and Mr Malfoy was mentioned as one of the largest contributors of the night.

To own the truth, it hurt her to see him like this. She thought that he had probably not invited the attention; the fact that he was an eligible bachelor once more was the reason for that, but what bothered her was that he didn't seem to mind them hanging off his arm. They were all very beautiful and looked as if they hadn't done a hard day's work in their lives; the hardest thing they probably did was choose what they were going to wear each day.

"No matter Miss Potter, no matter." Dumbledore waved off her apology. "Now," he addressed the assembled Governors, "I would like you to meet Messer's Ron Weasley and Harry Potter, our joint Head Boys and Miss Hermione Granger and Miss Kathryn Potter, our joint Head Girls."

The Governors then proceeded to work their way through the four of them, starting with Ron and finishing with Kathryn, shaking each of their hand's in turn. The men, out of politeness, kissed the hands' of both Hermione and Kathryn; many greeting Kathryn in an amicable manner, having already met her before. Lucius Malfoy was at the end of the group. He shook hands with Ron, Harry and Hermione, whose faces went as hard as stone; none of them speaking and their faces unreadable. When he reached Kathryn, however, his expression softened and he actually smiled.

"Miss Potter," he took the hand she had offered, "a pleasure as always." He kissed her hand, his eyes lingering on hers for longer than they should have considering the setting.

"Well, I believe that the rest of the school has made its way down to the Quidditch pitch, so I suggest that we follow lest we be blamed for holding up the match." Dumbledore said jovially once the introductions were over. They all followed him out the doors, Kathryn, Harry, Hermione and Ron dashing over to where they had left their cloaks.

As Kathryn had correctly predicted, Harry, Ron and Hermione each found themselves accosted by one or several of the Governors who were all eager to talk. Kathryn lagged slightly behind, walking very close to Mr Malfoy as they headed out the doors. She stopped for a moment at the top of the steps to pull on her cloak and was not surprised to find another pair of hands helping her. Smiling, she adjusted the clasp and, as they started to walk down again, slipped her arm through the one he offered.

They walked in silence for a little while, Kathryn continually having to put a hand to her hair, which was flying out in the wind. She heard a small snap as they walked past an early flowering shrub and, moments later, found him presenting her with one of the white blooms. Taking it, she whipped out her wand and tapped it three times. The stem went limp and, with lightning speed, she slipped it beneath her raven hair and twisted it about the wavy locks to hold them in place. Seconds later, the stem returned to its normal rigid self and her hair was no longer flying in her eyes.

"Thanks." She smiled up at him.

"It looks better there."

"Well you would say that, wouldn't you?" the rumble of noise from the Quidditch pitch was beginning to grow louder.

"Only because it's true." She slipped her arm out of his at this point as they had caught up with the rest of the group and were beginning to climb up into the stands. This was a lot less painful than the last time she had climbed these stairs as she was not recovering from a serious injury. When they reached the main landing, she looked back into his eyes and she could see that he was thinking the same thing as her; the last time they had been here, he had carried her the rest of the way. She tried to push these thoughts from her mind as they climbed, although this was made more difficult by his nearness to her and the discreet presence of his hand on her waist as they ascended.

It became even more a mirror of the year before when they reached the box for the only seats left were in the middle of the front row.

"We remembered you like to have a good view" One of the Governors said as they edged past. Kathryn smiled in thanks, noticing Harry, Ron and Hermione's eyes flicking to her as she sat down. She could almost sense the lecture that she would be receiving that evening. Looking back moments later, she could see them engrossed in conversation with the Governors sitting around them and thankfully no longer looking at her. During the match she felt quite secure in the fact that, thanks to the well fought battle going on between Slytherin and Hufflepuff, no one would notice the way he looked at, and acted around her apart from herself.

However, someone did. Hermione saw the way he whispered in her ear, the way he sat very close to her, the way he looked at her. She could see the way Kathryn reacted; smiling and laughing politely. She privately wondered why no one else seemed to have noticed anything odd but kept her thoughts to herself, resolving to discuss them with Harry and Ron later.

Once the match was over, Slytherin winning by a narrow margin of ten points, Kathryn could tell that he was disappointed as they were in the middle of the group walking back and he was unable to get as close to her as he would have liked. He had to be content with walking alongside her as his colleagues talked to her. Hermione noticed the same things at lunch as they were sitting at the top table with Dumbledore and the Governors. It was even easier to see the way he looked at her when you were sitting across the table from him.

Kathryn disappeared quickly after lunch, walking quickly through the corridor and up flights of stairs to the fairly empty common room. She hurried upstairs to change out of her smart clothes and into her usual baggy jeans, relaxed top and flip flops. As an afterthought, she pulled on her chocolate brown shrug, not wanting to look too underdressed. She swung her schoolbag over her shoulder and was just stepping out of the portrait hole as Harry, Hermione and Ron came up the stairs.

"I'm going for a shower," she lied, hefting her bag higher on her shoulder, "and then I'm off to the library to look up some stuff for the next DA meeting." The three of them waved her off, Hermione glad that she would have the opportunity to talk to Harry and Ron alone. Kathryn, meanwhile, had ducked into a passageway concealed behind a tapestry and was hurriedly consulting the Marauder's Map. Sure enough, the tiny dot labelled Lucius Malfoy was walking along the seventh floor and, after pacing back and forth three times, disappeared completely.

She walked quickly and with purpose towards the seventh floor, checking the Marauder's Map one final time before she rounded the corridor. She pulled off her cardigan as she walked; revealing the slightly skimpy cream silken top beneath that did nothing to conceal the flesh-tone, lacy underwear she was wearing beneath. She stepped quickly through the door, closing it behind her and hearing the several locks click automatically shut. She dumped her schoolbag and shrug against the wall and waited.

The room was shadowy, with heavy, deep blue drapes at the windows and lit only faintly with small clusters of candles on the mantelpiece and on several small tables. She could make out the usual assortment of furniture in the half-light; a large, four poster bed with dark green hangings this time, a large sofa and several chairs and tables. She could make out the figure sitting at the end of the bed, still dressed in the same black suit only the jacket was now missing. She walked over slowly, kicking off her flip flops as she walked, her heart fluttering with every step. Climbing onto the mattress, she knelt behind him, wrapping her arms round his waist and resting her head on his shoulder.

Without speaking, he turned round and met her lips, his hands already beginning to roam beneath her top, stroking softly against her warm skin. They lay there for some time, entwined in each others arms, still fully clothed and just kissing. It was a significant change from the times well over a year ago when anything between them had just been his way of hurting and degrading her. Now, with every touch and glance, she got the feeling that he didn't care anymore. His hands shifted their pace, slipping her top over her shoulders and throwing it aside. She could feel him smile as his fingers flirted with the waistband of her jeans. She giggled as he got stuck, unable to reach far enough to pull her jeans off without breaking contact with her. Laughing, she sat up quickly and pulled them off; tossing them onto the floor next to her top.

She kept on kissing him, his hands toying with her hair, as she undid the buttons on his shirt and added it to the growing pile of clothes on the floor. He shivered as the cool air in the room hit his chest and, seconds later, he had pulled the covers over them. In addition to this, as soon as he thought it, a fire sprang up in the grate. He had, by now, grown impatient and the rest of her clothes were on the floor in minutes and her legs were wrapped around him; eager for what he was giving her.

"You're so beautiful." He whispered in her ear afterwards, hugging her shapely form close to him.

"You're not too bad." She replied teasingly.

"Oh, so you only love me for my money?" he went along with the joke.

"Who says I love you?"

Meanwhile, up in Gryffindor tower, Hermione had locked herself, Ron and Harry in the boy's dormitory. She had even gone as far as to put and imperturbable charm on the door just in case any extendable ears had found their way into students' hands.

"What's up Hermione?" Ron asked as she checked to make sure no one was outside trying to listen "Why all the cloak and dagger stuff?"

"We need to talk, and this is the best place save Grimmauld Place."

"What's wrong?" Harry asked her, noting the serious tone in her voice.

"Your sister, or more specifically, the problem with a certain person who seems to have taken a fancy to your sister." She told them in a hushed, grave tone.

"Oh no, one of the Slytherins doesn't fancy her, do they?" Ron said, thinking this was what Hermione was getting worked up about.

"Oh Ron!" she said in a terse voice. "Please try to be serious."

"Sorry." He apologised meekly, shrinking in the wake of Hermione's annoyance.

"What is it?" Harry asked her again. Hermione finally sat down and began to speak.

"You are very lucky Harry, you and Kathryn both are."

"Yeah, because we've got a psychopathic dark wizard who's killed loads of people, including our parents, out to get us." Harry said in a sarcastic voice, raising his eyebrows. "Yeah, we're really lucky."

"Let me explain, I mean, I'm not sure if things are the same in the wizarding world but I'll use this as an example anyway." Crookshanks jumped up into her lap and she stroked his ginger fur whilst she talked. "Now, my parents are dentists and they work in the dental hospital near where we live, ok. One of their colleagues, a dental surgeon, he lost his wife in a car accident one Easter. He did the whole grief thing, you know; he lost weight, didn't sleep well, took lots of time off work." She paused, looking as if she was trying to remember what had happened. "After a few months he started seeing people again, at least, that's what my parents were talking about. The next time I saw him was at Mum and Dad's Christmas party. He was far from heartbroken with a blonde piece of 'eye-candy' half his age clinging onto him."

"Ok, what's your point?" Harry asked, although he had a vague idea where this was going.

"What I'm saying is that you and your sister, especially your sister, are very lucky to be Potters'." She paused again, looking as if she didn't want to say what was coming next.

"Why?" Harry persisted.

"You have all these associations, with Dumbledore, with the Order; with everything that Voldemort and his Death Eaters stand against."

"I know that, but so do you and Ron."

"What I mean is, well, is that if you and Kathryn were anyone else without these connections." She trailed off, taking a deep breath before finally finishing her sentence. "If you weren't, Lucius Malfoy would be on your sister like that." She snapped her fingers for effect. Harry just stared at her, not believing what she was saying. "Please don't tell me you haven't seen the way he looks at her." The anguish in her voice reached a new high. "Even today, you must have seen?" she asked, sounding almost panicked. "You could have cut the sexual tension between them with a knife!"

"Well, I was talking to the Governors a lot, we all were."

"And who made sure that they were continually sat next to your sister?"

"Lucius Malfoy." Harry admitted. "But that doesn't really matter; you've seen the society pages of the Prophet. He's a consummate Playboy. Since his wife died he's been seen with more than one pretty girl on his arm."

"I know that Harry, I don't just look for the important stuff when I read the Prophet." Hermione replied tersely. "But he appears to only have eyes for her. All those other girls are just gold-digging or desperate for attention," she dismissed them with a wave of her hand; "your sister is the only one who he seems to pursue despite her dismissal of his attentions."

"But Hermione, she told us last year, she knows what she's doing and I don't want to start a row over it again."

"I know she can handle it, I'm just pointing it out." Hermione went all defensive. "Look Harry, I'll be surprised if you haven't noticed, but you're sister is extremely pretty." She looked as if she didn't want to say this either. "She's every girlfriend's worst nightmare. Not that I worry about her." She said quickly, noticing the looks Harry and Ron gave her. "She's been here nearly five years now and, despite most people knowing her, she still turns heads when she walks down a busy corridor. I mean, I've seen boys in our year trip over themselves because they've been looking at her instead of where they're going." She giggled slightly, remembering the sight of Justin Finch-Fletchley landing in a heap of books and spilled ink. "Even you said yourself, on the day of your hearing just before the start of fifth year, when they first met. You told us that he seemed almost entranced by her."

"Well, he was." Harry conceded. "But that was just curiosity, she was only fifteen then!" he was beginning to get defensive.

"Oh Harry, even then she turned heads! Get over it." Hermione laughed slightly, finding the way Harry was getting irritated quite funny. "Look, she knows that she's got it, in fact, she's told me that it's quite fun to cause such a stir! Anyway, she knows what she's got and I'll bet you anything she knows Lucius Malfoy wants it. He's just lost his wife, he's rich; he'd be a good catch if only for the niggling fact that he's a Death Eater."

"If he dares try anything." Harry seethed.

"That's my point Harry, you could see it today. She knows he wants it but that's the thing, she's definitely not giving it to him; I could see it in her eyes."

"She'd never go near him anyway." Harry spat.

"Oh get over it, Harry! She's just playing to him, like she was last year; just playing nice because she's the Head Girl and she has to. I'm sure she said once that we should keep him happy and then he might not try to get rid of Dumbledore at every chance he's got."

"So, apart from the fact that Lucius Malfoy is attracted to my sister, why is this dangerous for her?" Harry asked, feeling down in the dumps now that he'd actually admitted this.

"Men get jealous, resentful even, when they don't get what they want and I'll bet you that doesn't happen often to Lucius Malfoy." Hermione's voice had an added tone of dread in it. "We know that Lucius Malfoy generally always has the best of everything; clothes, a mansion, tickets for the top box, everything. Your sister is, let's be fair, the best there is. He's not used to being denied what he wants." She repeated to enforce her point.

"Well, it's not like he can hurt her whilst she's here or when she's at Grimmauld Place. I'd say she's pretty safe." Ron finally spoke.

"But what if," she paused, thinking of how to word this, "but what if the end eventually comes and we win," she paused, "we win, but he survives? Would she forever be in danger of him coming to get her; determined to get what she refused him?" Hermione shuddered as she said this. "What I mean is, we have to be extra vigilant, like Moody says, you never know what a Death Eater's got up his sleeve but you can bet it's not nice."

"She could take Lucius Malfoy any day." Harry said proudly. "It's not like he's going to be any challenge after Voldemort." They were interrupted by a banging on the door.

"Harry, Ron, let us in!" They heard Seamus yelling.

"We'll talk about this later." Hermione said, removing the imperturbable charm from the door.

"Well, at least she's not giving him what he wants." Harry said before they unlocked the door. "At least I can take comfort in that." They unlocked the door and headed back downstairs to get on with some of their homework.

How wrong they were.

Back in the Room of Requirement, Kathryn lay dozing in his arms, not really wanting to move even though she knew she had to or Harry, Ron and Hermione would start to wonder where she had gotten to.

"Hate to say this, but I've got to go." She told him, wrapping a sheet round herself and beginning to gather up her clothes. She pulled on her knickers and bra, smiling to herself when she remembered what Hermione had said to her when she saw her packing to come back to school. 'It's Scotland, not the Bahamas Kathryn!" she had cried, giggling slightly. 'At least in an emergency we'll be able to use them to strain tea!' she had gone on, failing to stay calm.

"Well, when can I see you next?" he asked from the bed where he was still lying; watching her as she pulled on her clothes.

"There's another Quidditch match in a couple of weeks, but that's us versus Hufflepuff so I'd like to see you think of an excuse to come and see that." She ticked these off on her fingers. "Then it'll be Easter and that's two weeks holiday. Then we'll have the Ravenclaw versus Slytherin after Easter and the final in the last half term before summer." She ticked these off too, pulling on her jeans. "There will be a Hogsmeade weekend in there too I suppose, there may even be one before Easter for everyone to get Easter eggs from Honeydukes." She pulled her top back on. "Oh, and there's the summer half term." She added, slipping on her shoes.

"So, plenty of chances then." He seemed quite satisfied with that list.

"Yes, plenty of chances. I'm thinking of organising a ball too." She sighed, moving back over to kiss him one final time. "Just send me an owl." She pulled on her shrug and slung her schoolbag back onto her shoulder. After giving in to his entreaties, she kissed him for what she promised herself was the final time and, before he could call her back again, sauntered out the door; making sure it locked behind her.

Once she was a few corridors away from the Room of Requirement, she leant against the nearest wall and slid slowly down until she was sitting on the cool stone floor.

"What am I doing?" she murmured to herself, hoping that no one would come along and find her like this. She sat there for several minutes before standing up again and walking purposefully back the way she had come. "I must be mad." She muttered as she looked for the door that only she would be able to see. It was still there.

Inside the room of requirement, just as he finished buttoning up his shirt, Lucius' heart practically stopped as he heard the door handle click. Something must have gone drastically wrong as only he and one other person should be able to get through that door. He had thought that it would be a little longer before this happened, before someone found out. He stood quickly and turned around, bracing himself for what was to come. What he didn't expect was to see was Kathryn slip in and close the door behind her.

Leaning against the heavy oak of the door, Kathryn faced him across the room. Her bag slid to the floor with a thud but she did not move.

"I thought you were someone else." He said, setting his cane down again. In her eyes, he looked as if he had readied himself for a fight.

"You'd better not be expecting anyone other than me." She replied quietly. She had seen the pieces of blonde fluff that had been hanging round him at parties. She had seen the pictures in the society section of the Prophet. This was what she had been worried about, what had made her turn around.

"Certainly not." He replied carefully, sensing that something was bothering her.

"Not even one of those leggy, blonde girls that I see in the photos that they put in the Prophet?" she shot back as he walked closer.

"Those vapid harpies?" he raised an eyebrow, closing the distance between them quickly. "I think not."

"You didn't seem to mind when they were dangling off your arm." She shot back. "Or am I just a casual fling now?"

"They couldn't hold a candle to you." He reassured her in a murmur, wrapping his arms slowly around her waist, his breath whispering across her cheek.

"I mean, I know I'm not that perfect all the time and I do like my baggy jeans, but at least I'm not faking." She reasoned as he kissed her lightly on the cheek. "And I have a brain and my own fortune so I have no need for yours-."

"You are perfect all the time." He silenced her rambling with a swift, but gentle kiss.

"Really?" she whispered when he eventually had to breathe.

"Really." He nodded. "Those insipid vultures might be beautiful but they are most certainly not intelligent in matters beyond the tactics necessary to catch a good husband."

"That might be the one matter that I have no knowledge of." She replied with a small laugh. "But I don't think it too important at the moment."

"They couldn't hold a candle to you." He repeated, making sure that she got the message. Slowly, he coaxed her away from where she was still leaning against the door until he was sat on the edge of the bed and she was balanced in his lap.

"I thought you had to go?" he asked as she shook her shrug off her shoulders and began to unbutton his shirt.

"Who cares?" she shrugged. "It's not like I'm going to be in any kind of danger seeing as you are not in the castle." She gave him a wink and resumed her attentions as he slipped her top back over her head.

"What infallible logic." He commented with a smirk.

"Well, like you said, much more then a pretty face." She smirked back as he lowered her down onto the mattress. She was perfectly aware of what he wanted as he once again divested her of her clothes and she was perfectly happy to admit that she wanted it too.

"You're so much more fun than those other girls too," he commented as her back arched, "all they want to do is pose for the cameras. You just can't have a decent conversation."

"Well," she gasped, "we're not exactly conversing." He laughed out loud at this statement, a sound rarely heard, kissing her fervently. He had meant what he had said earlier, it hadn't been a lie. She was perfect.

She walked quickly through the hallways after she had left him for the second time, heading straight for the Prefects' bathroom where she had a long, hot shower and filled the marbled room with the scent of various shampoos and shower gels. Eventually she headed back to the common room refreshed and with an added spring in her step; she was very much looking forward to Easter. She spotted the three of them as soon as she walked in, heading straight for them and slumping down into one of the comfy chairs they had saved for her.

"I thought you were going for a shower first?" Hermione asked, noticing her dripping hair.

"Yeah, but then I remembered how Madam Pince is with her books so I went to the library first." She lied.

"Find anything interesting?"

"Some stuff, yeah, but I think I might just go over what we did last time on stunning spells and I might start on the impediment jinx." She ran through what they had done last time. "They're only third years but they're dying to start Patronuses. They won't listen when I tell them it's very advanced magic."

"I did it when I was in third year." Harry reminded her.

"Yes, well, you're a special case. I learnt it in third year too; but that was just because I wanted to know how. I'd seen you doing it when I'd been having those horrible dreams with the Dementors' so I thought it might be a good idea to learn." It was her turn that evening to teach one of the DA meetings that was made up of third year students. The DA had, in fact, become so popular that nearly every student carried one of the fake Galleons in their pockets and Harry, Kathryn, Ron and Hermione had ended up having to split the year groups up so they had manageable classes to teach. Well, apart from the Slytherins, nearly every student was a member.

It had become interesting to watch their schoolmates develop over the years into competent students who were hopefully going to be able to remain calm in difficult situations, should they ever arise. The four of them had to keep going back to the books in Grimmauld Place and in the Room of Requirement to find even more complex spells and learn them themselves before trying to teach them to the other students. There were a select group of highly advanced students made up of the four of them plus Neville, Ginny and Luna as they had actually experienced fighting against the Death Eaters. They trained extra hard, especially Neville, who was determined to face Bellatrix Lestrange and win. She, Harry, Ron and Hermione also worked hard at their Defence Against the Dark Arts practice, knowing that it was almost inevitable that they would be facing Voldemort and his Death Eaters sooner than they wished.


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer - You know the deal...not mine...yadda yadda yadda...I just borrow it for fun.

A/N - A very public encounter and a very private dinner which leads to suspicions that Draco is going blind, or is at least incredibly dense. There are also some thoughtful revelations from one who is normally very private. Enjoy!

* * *

It was a surprise when, one Wednesday before the end of term, an owl delivered the four of them some post. Reading it eagerly, they discovered that, thanks to business being so good, Fred and George had managed to procure some tickets for an England Quidditch World Cup quarter final against Italy. Dumbledore had agreed for them all to be allowed to go to the match that weekend, as long as they returned to the castle by the Sunday evening.

"Finally!" Ron exclaimed as he packed his bag hurriedly on the Friday evening. "Their business is finally paying off for me! I wonder how often they're going to do this?"

"Oh Ron shut up and pack!" Hermione chided him from where she was sat on his mattress. "We're waiting for you, if you hadn't been playing that infernal game of chess we'd be ready to leave by now."

"But I was winning!" he protested.

"Just pack!" Kathryn said sternly, throwing a pair of Harry's maroon socks at him so hard they bounced off his head.

The next morning, after having spent a very comfortable night at Grimmauld Place, they were woken by the smell of a late breakfast wafting beneath their doors and Mrs Weasley shouting at them to come down.

"I wish you lot would hurry up." She grumbled as they walked in with their dressing gowns wrapped around them and rubbing sleep out of their eyes.

"Mum, it doesn't start until three!" Ginny complained sitting down next to Harry and resting her head on his shoulder. Kathryn knew why she was complaining as it was only when they were at Grimmauld Place that she got to share a bed with Harry as they couldn't at Hogwarts. Although the girls and the boys both still had separate rooms, they generally shared most nights in the holidays. Harry's room was technically his own but he still shared with Ron, not wanting to neglect his best friend. On weekends, Harry just liked to lie in bed with Ginny for a few hours. Hermione and Ron were the same; they liked that precious time alone that was hard to get when the house was full. Mrs Weasley had been hostile to this change but had eventually had to accept that her children were all but grown up.

"Yes, and it's half past ten now," she said brusquely, putting a large salver of sausages on the table, "I'm giving you time to wake up. You don't get a lie-in in the real world."

"Well, I can't complain about the reason for getting up." Ron grinned, helping himself to sausages, toast and bacon.

"True." Hermione sighed, buttering herself some toast and grabbing a jar of Mrs Weasleys home made marmalade.

They left for the stadium at one that afternoon, after Fred and George had closed up the shop early. Their party was sixteen people in total; Sirius, Bill, Charlie, Fleur, Lupin and Tonks coming along as well as Mr and Mrs Weasley.

The match was being held in the stadium that had been built for the last Quidditch World Cup and, Kathryn had to admit, that it was still pretty impressive. She could almost see the magic radiating off it; it had so many Muggle repelling charms cast over it.

"Where are we sitting?" Ron asked above the noise of the crowd.

"Right at the top!" Fred yelled. "Just get onto the stairs and keep on walking."

"The top box?" Ron asked, raising a questioning eyebrow.

"We're not made of money." Fred drawled. "Our seats are just very high up." Very high up did appear to be a bit of an understatement. They seemed to be climbing for hours and, during the climb, Kathryn found her mind wandering to her plans for Easter.

"How much further?" Ron asked wearily as they climbed what felt like the hundredth set of stairs. Kathryn's wandering mind was brought back, however, by the sound of a curt voice below them.

"Put it this way," a cool, clipped voiced said from beneath them, "if it rains, you'll be the first to know." She would recognise that voice anywhere and Kathryn worked hard to keep her face impassive as she brought up the tail end of the group, cursing the fact that she found his voice irresistibly alluring.

"Lucius." Mr Weasley gave the blond man a nod before continuing on up the stairs. Kathryn noted that he was followed by his son and Pansy Parkinson.

"How many times did you have to re-mortgage your house to afford this Weasley?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. "Surely Gringotts would have refused such a request."

"For your information, Malfoy," George snapped, "we paid." He and Fred nodded vigorously.

"Well, taking that into account, I see that the top box was an experience you will not repeat." He said coldly, Kathryn spotting Draco looking smugly on with Pansy right behind him. Mr Weasley turned away and began to usher everyone else up the stairs. Sirius and Lupin looked as if they were quite prepared to hex Malfoy into next week. Bill and Charlie also looked well up for a fight, both of them clutching their wands tightly.

"We're here by invitation of the Minister, Weasley." Draco drawled at Ron. "It seems that you aren't in such favour."

"Don't boast, Draco." Lucius gave his son a whack in the shins with his cane. Kathryn smirked and had to resist the temptation to laugh as she saw this. "There's no need with these people."

Gritting their teeth, Harry and Ron followed Sirius up, hanging on tight to Ginny and Hermione's hands. Kathryn was last to pass him; not knowing what would happen when she did. She wished that she hadn't made an effort with her clothes. She was only wearing a pair of dark, fitted jeans that sat low on her hips, a black top with a deep V-neck, black suede boots with flat soles and the black cloak that he had bought her, but she knew that he would find it attractive. Around her neck was one of the necklaces he had given her; the large set of rubies that matched the ring sitting comfortably on her finger. Taking a deep breath, she followed Harry and found herself standing on the landing directly above Mr Malfoy, Draco and Pansy.

"Ah, Miss Potter," he said with a smirk, "how predictable to find you here."

"The same could be said for you." She replied coolly, cocking an eyebrow at him before turning to follow Harry up the stairs.

"Actually, Miss Potter?" His voice followed her as she walked.

"Yes?" she asked curtly, turning round to face him.

"Would I be able to have a moment of your time?" she sensed Harry freeze as he heard those words. "I have a message from the Governors regarding your proposed plan for the summer term. I might as well give it to you in person, seeing as you are here. "

"Sorry, the Head Girl is off duty today." She gave him a smile, flicked her hair over her shoulder and walked away.

"That," said George, once they were out of hearing distance from Malfoy, "was quite brilliant if you ask me."

"What?" she asked; bemused.

"I have never seen anyone give Lucius Malfoy a taste of his own medicine like that." Fred explained.

"Especially someone much younger. I'm surprised you got away with it." George added.

"It was very cool." Fred began.

"And perfectly aloof," George finished, "have you been practicing?" Kathryn smiled and did not reply; knowing that she couldn't really say that she could talk to him like that because they were more than casual acquaintances. Thankfully, Fred and George then went off to talk to Sirius and Lupin.

"Maybe that's why he hangs around you so much?" Hermione whispered in her ear a few moments later.

"What?"

"Well, apart from being beautiful, you challenge him; you spar with him when others dare not." She explained.

"Maybe." Kathryn sighed, turning her attention to the stadium and trying to ignore the blond head that she could see beneath her.

The view was quite spectacular form the top of the stadium but, even as the match got into full swing, she couldn't help but find herself thinking about the man in the box below her. The England team were on form, as they had been in Dubai, but the Italians were putting up a good fight. After about half an hour spent cheering until her voice was hoarse, there was a slight cough at her right shoulder and she turned to find herself face to face with the bespectacled Percy Weasley. Wordlessly, he handed her a small piece of parchment and disappeared back down the stairs. Carefully, she checked to make sure that no one was watching her, and opened the note. It was only a few words long but was written in an instantly recognisable script.

_Downstairs. Make up an excuse. Fudge would be delighted to see you…_

Folding the note and slipping in into her pocket she realised that, in the brief pause whilst one of the Italian players was treated on the pitch for a rather broken nose, most of their party was looking at her.

"Fudge wants a word," she lied, "excuse me." She turned on her heel and hurried down the stairs, arriving at the entrance to the top box in minutes. She stood in the entrance and gave a small cough to announce her presence.

"Ah! Miss Potter!" Fudge bounded to his feet as soon as he saw her. "How simply marvellous to see you again! When Lucius told me you were here I was quite surprised to find that you weren't sat here."

"Thank you, Minister." She shook his hand. "I'm here with the Weasleys actually, and my brother, godfather and my friends."

"Well, I'm sure they can spare you for the rest of the match, come, sit down." He practically dragged her over to the chair that appeared directly between himself and Mr Malfoy.

"If you insist." She tried to ignore the looks Malfoy and Pansy were giving her as she approached, although they were entirely different to those Malfoy senior was giving her.

"Signor Olivetti, might I introduce Miss Kathryn Potter." A tall, olive skinned man with slightly greying hair stood from the seat on the other side of Fudge. "Miss Potter, Signor Olivetti, the Italian Minister for Magic."

"A pleasure." She smiled, taking the hand that Olivetti offered her.

"The honour is mine, Signorina." Olivetti said in heavily accented English, giving her hand a swift kiss before releasing it. The match resumed and she took her seat between Fudge and Malfoy.

"It must be Christmas when I saw you last," Fudge remarked as they watched the game, "it's amazing how time flies, isn't it."

"Yes, although I have been kept rather busy with work for our exams." She smiled. "And, of course, I have Quidditch training, DA meetings and corridor patrols to do too."

"Well, from what I've heard, you are quite a talented Quidditch player." She saw Draco's jaw twitch in anger at these words.

"Well, that comes from lots of practice. My bother, Ron Weasley and I did get the chance to train with the under twenty one England squad a couple of summers ago so that helped a lot."

"So you wish to play professionally?" Olivetti asked with interest.

"Well, I'd like to be an Auror really, but we'll see what happens."

"I'd be happy to put a word in for you in any Ministry department you wish." Fudge offered kindly.

"I'd rather get a job on my own merits, Minister," she replied, "but thank you for the offer." She couldn't imagine what would happen if Draco decided to repeat that to other Slytherins, hoping that, as she had refused, he would refrain from causing uproar just once.

"Of course, my dear, of course." He smiled. They sat in silence for a few more minutes as they watched the game, Draco and Pansy speaking in whispers, before Mr Malfoy leant in and spoke to her.

"In regards to what you suggested for the summer term a few weeks ago, I have spoken to the Governors and they are all enthusiastic about it."

"Good," she smiled, "now all I have to do is mention it to the others."

"When do you have to be back at school?" he asked in a whisper, although he needn't have as the cheers of the crowd made sure that he wouldn't be heard.

"Sunday evening, why?" she didn't really need to ask this, knowing why he was curious.

"Well, if you wish, you may join myself and the Minister for dinner again?"

"If you like, although I'll have to work out a way to explain that to Harry." She reminded him. "I could say that dinner was at Fudge's instead."

"Make up whatever excuse you wish."

"Will your son be there too?" she asked, unsure of whether doing such a thing with Draco in attendance was really wise.

"Yes, as well as Miss Parkinson." He replied with a nod.

"Are you sure that is entirely practical?" she asked with raised eyebrows.

"He will be far too occupied with Miss Parkinson to notice anything."

"He might notice the fact that I do not leave." She hissed as England scored.

"Do you really think that he is that observant if he has noticed nothing before now?" he replied in an even quieter voice.

"True." She sighed. "Alright then, I'll come."

In the stands above them, Harry leant as far over the barrier as he dared to try and catch a glimpse of the top box. He could just make out the front row of seats and their occupants. He saw his sister's long black hair in the seat next to Fudge. His brow furrowed as he realised that she was also sat next to Lucius Malfoy. He watched as, in the brief pause when another of the players was surrounded my Medi-wizards, Malfoy leant in to speak to his sister. It was just what Hermione had said. He watched as she smiled politely and even laughed once. He tried to relax, remembering what Hermione had said; she was just playing along, it didn't mean anything. He was relieved when he saw Fudge interrupt and he went back to watching the game.

"What are you talking about?" Fudge asked curiously over the clamour of the crowd.

"The Italian seeker." Kathryn replied swiftly, the lie coming easily. "He's not up to par considering that this is a World Cup game."

"What makes you say that?" Olivetti asked, sounding slightly put out.

"Well, he has the latest Comet, but he hasn't spotted the Snitch once, neither of the Seekers have." She shrugged.

"Well, Master Draco, you are a Seeker, are you not?" Fudge asked Draco. "Can you spot the Snitch." Draco puffed out his chest, trying to impress his father and Pansy. After a few moments of frantic searching, his face fell and he sat back in his seat.

"I can't." He said sulkily.

"What about you, Miss Potter?" Olivetti asked.

"Italian Keeper's left ear." She replied instantly. "England Beater's knee. England centre goal hoop."

"Impressive," Olivetti commented, "you should be a Seeker."

"I have stood in for my brother on occasion. Although it's a lot harder when you are actually on a broom" She replied, her eyes fixed firmly on the game. "It's in front of the England Seeker's nose!" she suddenly said, shifting right to the edge of her seat. On cue, the England seeker shot across the pitch at a furious speed. The cheering rose to an even more furious pace as the Italian seeker followed the England player like a shadow. They appeared both to be equally matched in terms of skill and it was a close fight to try and grasp the elusive Golden Snitch. Kathryn was perched on the edge of her seat as the pair of them went flying past their box.

"Go." She murmured under her breath as she watched the English seeker, James, start to outstrip her Italian counterpart. "Go!"

The stadium was deathly calm as her fingers closed around the tiny golden ball and then, as if someone had turned the volume back up, the crowds exploded with noise. The England team practically collided with each other in mid air in their rush to celebrate. The seeker waved the Snitch high above her head in celebration as they did several victory laps before landing in the top box. Kathryn, as with the last time she had seen them, found herself being pulled into a giant hug by the England team.

"No one told us our lucky charm was here!" one of the chasers shouted. Laughing, Kathryn extracted herself from the group as the press descended on the top box and flashbulbs began to go off. She walked over to where he was standing talking to Fudge, to say her goodbyes.

"I'd best be off Minister." She said with smile. "It was a pleasure to see you again."

"Indeed my dear," Fudge beamed, "and when will I be seeing you next?"

"I don't know."

"Tonight," Lucius said firmly, "that is, if you would care to join the Minister and I for dinner?" he asked quickly so as to appear unplanned.

"Well, I don't know," she said slowly, resisting the temptation to smirk as she saw the look that came into Lucius' eyes, "I really have to finish an essay."

"Oh come come Miss Potter," Fudge cajoled her, "I'm sure that you have ample time to complete such things."

"Alright then." She said with a smile, trying to suppress a giggle as she saw Draco's jaw drop in shock.

"Marvellous!" Fudge beamed ecstatically.

"Seven pm." Lucius told her.

"I look forward to it." She said with the briefest of smirks. "Good day." She gave the pair of them a nod before sweeping out of the doors where she ran straight into the Weasleys, Harry, Hermione and the rest as they walked back down the stairs.

"What was that about?" Harry asked as they walked down.

"Fudge heard that I was here and, well, you know how he is. He'll do anything to make a good impression." She sighed. "He's invited me over to dinner tonight too."

"Well, you'll just have to keep your ears open, won't you." Sirius chuckled.

"Yes, and it gives me a perfect excuse to go shopping," she smiled, "as I'll just have to have a new dress for the occasion." With a slight spring in her step, she followed them down the stairs.

At seven precisely that evening she knocked sharply upon the door of Malfoy Manor. A house elf opened the door and, without even looking at it, she swept through into the entrance hall; trying her best to pretend that she had never been here before.

"Potter," a disinterested voice drawled from the staircase, "what are you wearing?" she looked down at her coat. It was floor length, figure hugging and with a deep V-neck and made from heavy black velvet.

"It's a coat," she replied dryly, "are you going to take it or am I going to have to hang it up myself?" he did not move and, after staring him out for a few moments, he disappeared back up the stairs. She shrugged her coat off and laid it across the banister before heading through to the drawing room where she could hear someone moving about. Sticking her head round the door, she found Lucius uncorking a bottle of red wine by hand.

"Your son gives a wonderfully charming welcome." She remarked, stepping round the door and closing it behind her. His face lit up as soon as he saw her and he gave her a lingering kiss before stepping back to look at her dress.

"You look beautiful." He remarked. Her dress was made from ruched green chiffon over silk and was quite figure hugging. It went to about her knees, had a nipped in waist, giving it an hourglass shape, and thin straps. She had decided to wear the delicate green jewels that he had given her on her birthday and her hair hung, as always, loose down her back.

"Would I ever be anything else?" she replied coyly, giving him a small smile as he handed her a glass of wine.

"True." He shrugged, pulling her close and kissing her again.

"You son is upstairs!" she gasped as he finally stopped. "Be patient." She rearranged her hair and dress as there was another knock on the door. She heard Draco greet Fudge and, quite cheekily, offer to take his cloak. Smirking, she followed Lucius to the door. Looking out, she saw Draco standing at the foot of the stairs with Pansy behind him. She was wearing a floaty cocktail dress made of shocking pink chiffon and had her hair done up in a bun on the top of her head. Whilst she did not look ugly, she should have kept her hair in a more relaxed style as the severe bun didn't really go with her whimsical dress. Pansy looked as if she was feeling quite superior, obviously thinking herself the prettiest girl in the room.

Deciding to put an end to that, Kathryn strode out into the entrance hall. She walked in a way not unlike the way she had seen Muggle supermodels walk; making sure that she caught the attention of everyone in the room but not looking ridiculous. She came to a stop just beside Lucius, doing her best to stare Pansy out as she stood there. Pansy looked quite crestfallen as she dropped her gaze to the floor and shifted closer to Draco. Lucius, who had watched the entire silent exchange, found it almost similar to the animal kingdom; the dominant female exerting her authority over others less powerful than her. To be fair, he knew which one he would rather be sharing his bed with that night.

"Evening Lucius," Fudge smiled, handing Draco his pinstriped cloak and hat, "and good evening to you Miss Potter."

"Good evening Minister." She said, flashing her warmest smile, trying to pretend that Draco Malfoy wasn't standing opposite her.

She stood and faced Draco and Pansy down as Lucius led Fudge off into the drawing room.

"What are you waiting for Potter?" Malfoy drawled as she did not move.

"I am waiting for you to go." She replied, taking a sip of her wine. "I've learned not to turn my back on you." She added dryly.

"Someday Potter," he growled as he and Pansy stalked past, "someday you'll wish you never met me. I'm going to get you back for every time you opened your smart mouth."

"Oh don't worry," she replied in the same dry tone as she followed them into the drawing room, "I already regret meeting you. I've wasted too many minutes of my life listening to your pathetic threats." She turned her smile back on as she stepped through the doors, taking a seat in a chair directly opposite Lucius so that she was on full view; teasing him as he could do nothing with his son and guests present.

She was surprised to be sat on his immediate right at dinner, assuming that it would be where Fudge was sat. She and Fudge were sat opposite Draco and Pansy, who kept on shooting her scandalised looks at every opportunity she got. This, however, was becoming such a common occurrence that Kathryn found that she could quite easily ignore it.

Conversation was civil; they discussed the day's match over a dinner of fresh oysters, served in their shells, followed by a delicious main course of duck in an orange and cointreau sauce with shavings of black truffle to counter the sweetness of the sauce. She caused a small stir when eating her starter, bringing the oyster shell to her lips and letting it slide down her throat in one fluid motion, whilst everyone else ate with their knives and forks.

"Sorry," she apologised with a smirk, "I grew up in France," she reminded them, "that's how you eat oysters over there." It seemed that neither Pansy nor Draco appreciated their starter, picking at the meat with their forks and leaving most untouched.

She cocked an eyebrow at Lucius as the dessert was set before her. On her plate were two halves of skinned, slightly caramelised peach, one half with the stone left in, along with a drizzle of the sticky, caramelised juice. This sweetness was tempered by the light drizzle of bittersweet dark chocolate that zigzagged across the plate. All this was accompanied by a fruity, rich red wine that he knew she particularly liked. Kathryn made a note to take Lucius up on the subject of the dinner once they were alone.

That did not turn out to be very long, Fudge excusing himself about an hour after diner had finished; leaving her alone with Lucius, Draco and Pansy. It did not take very long for Draco and Pansy, who looked slightly flushed, to retire upstairs to Draco's room, leaving them, finally, alone. They sat in his study, he in his favourite armchair and she on one of the comfortable sofas.

"I take it you enjoyed dinner?" he asked as she gazed languidly at the liquid in her glass.

"Yes," she smiled, "it was lovely." He could tell that she was slightly uncomfortable, probably because she knew that his son was just upstairs.

"Relax, he won't know anything." he tried to reassure her. "The house has thick walls."

"I know," she sighed, startled at how accurately he had read her thoughts, "it's just difficult knowing that he is just one floor up." She stood up and wandered lazily over to his desk, leaning on the edge and looking over her shoulder out onto the dark grounds.

"I could help you forget." He offered with a smirk, finishing the last of his wine and promptly refilling his glass.

"Are you trying to seduce me?" she asked in mock astonishment, looking sharply back at him.

"Would I do something like that?" he replied incredulously. "Whatever would make you think that?"

"Well, the fact that you have fed me aphrodisiacs throughout dinner gave me some hints." She replied dryly. "I counted three; oysters, truffles and chocolate," she listed, "four if you include the wine. And I'm not including the very suggestive peach either."

"And have they worked?"

"Possibly." She shrugged, taking another drink of wine but nearly choking on it as the door to his study opened.

"Excuse me." It was Draco.

"Yes?" Lucius asked, completely unfazed by his son's appearance in the doorway.

"I came to say goodnight." He explained. "I've got to leave early in the morning; I've got Quidditch practice at half past nine." If he was in any way curious as to why Kathryn was still there, he did not show it.

"Goodnight then," Lucius replied, "I'll see you at Easter." With a silent nod, Draco turned and closed the door behind him as he left. Draining the rest of her wine and handing her glass to him for a refill, Kathryn stood and wandered around to the other end of his desk where she scrawled a note to Sirius and sent it off in a burst of flame.

"You didn't answer my question." She said as soon as she was sure that Draco was out of hearing distance and wine was back in her hand.

"Pardon?"

"Are. You. Trying. To. Seduce. Me?" she asked slowly, a smirk playing across her face as she sipped her wine. Smirking back, he stood and walked across to where she was standing.

"To put it quite frankly," he replied, slipping his arms around her waist and capturing her lips in a bruising kiss, "yes."

"Good, because I'd be most disappointed if you weren't." She kissed him back hungrily, deciding that she couldn't give two figs about whether Draco was just upstairs; he would be too busy with Pansy to notice anything anyway. Taking her hand, he led her out of the study and through the hall to his bedroom. She noted that, once again, all of the portraits were covered; his wife might be dead but they could still whisper to his son.

"You know," she said softly, linking her arm with his, "I'm surprised that you dare do this."

"Well, I don't think it particularly wise, but I need something to distract me from the noise upstairs." He said with a grimace. "The sound of my son and the pug-nosed girl, er, fornicating, is not what I want to hear whilst trying to get some sleep."

"Well, I'm glad that you choose me as your distraction." She smirked as she crossed the threshold, slipping her shoes off and removing her jewellery. His hand found hers as she reached for the zip of her dress and she let him slide the fabric slowly off her shoulders and down her sides until it pooled on the floor at her feet.

"Delectable." He murmured as she turned to face him in her dark green underwear.

"I should hope so," she replied dryly, "considering how much my dress cost." She slipped his jacket off his shoulders and tossed it onto the back of a chair before she deftly undid the buttons on the front of his soft, white shirt. In the quiet there was a low moan that sounded like it was coming from upstairs.

"Oh dear lord." Lucius groaned, kissing her hungrily as if that would block the sound.

"Thick walls eh?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. "You know, I caught them at it once," she gasped as they crashed onto the mattress, "when I was patrolling the corridors, they were in a cleaning cupboard." Lucius actually laughed out loud at that image. "It wasn't a pretty sight." She groaned. "Apparently Pansy's a screamer."

"To be fair," he murmured back, throwing the rest of her underwear onto the floor, "I distinctly remember making you scream."

"That was in completely different circumstances though." She reminded him as her back arched to his touch. "That doesn't exactly count." She gasped, her hands tangling in his hair.

"True." He murmured; kissing his way down her neck, nipping the skin in places that she knew would bear bruises in the morning.

As he had earlier implied, he did make her cry out as they lay there; pushing her to the brink of pleasure again and again without care for his son that lay upstairs. She assumed that his dinner preparations had worked as a single touch from his hand was enough to make her come undone.

"Please," she whispered, "stop tormenting me."

"But it's so fun to make you squirm." He replied with a smirk.

In the end, she completely forgot that Draco was upstairs and she found him muffling her cries with kisses as they lay entwined beneath the dark sheets. Perversely, she found herself wondering, as she lay next to him, how his son would react if he caught them together. She doubted that it would happen though; it seemed that Draco knew not to disturb his father, especially as he had said he would be leaving early in the morning. To her, that had suggested that she would be getting a nice long Sunday morning lie-in in her favourite bed. Of course, it was practically a guarantee that no one would find out about her being at Malfoy manor for dinner as Draco would never mention such a thing in public for fear of damaging his reputation in the Slytherin common room. That meant that the fact that she had stayed until, to Draco's knowledge, past midnight, would never reach her friends ears.

That morning, she found herself being woken by someone lightly kissing her face.

"Go away Crookshanks." She groaned sleepily, rolling over, having forgotten where she was.

"I am most certainly not Crookshanks," he whispered in her ear, "and I am most certainly not going away." Remembering where she was this time, she tried, groggily, to sit up but found that she was being pinned to the bed by his arms.

"Not now," she moaned, not yet properly awake, "I have to get home."

"Yes now." He relied with a smirk. "And no, you are not going home until at least mid-afternoon." He informed her, crooking his leg over her thigh so that she knew what he wanted. "I am getting at least breakfast and lunch out of you."

"Fine," she sighed, "I'll send a note after breakfast as it is a habit of mine to leave before you are even awake. I think I owe you a lie in." She did not speak further, instead letting out a low moan as his hands started to caress her in all the right places; her hips bucking off the mattress.

Once he was, again, satiated and lying lazily next to her running his hands through her hair; she pushed her glasses onto her nose and grabbed her wand. Conjuring a sheaf of parchment and a quill, she dashed off a note to Sirius.

_Sirius_

_Fudge let me sleep in and has invited me to stay for lunch (he has important Ministry men coming I suppose, anything for a good impression). Will try and get away as early as possible. Tell Mrs Weasley not to panic, I bet she'll be in hysterics. See you later. _

_Kathryn._

"There," she sighed, rolling over to lie against him once she had sent the note, "I'm yours for the afternoon."

"When do you have to leave?"

"I'll probably have to be gone by three," she replied, "we're leaving for Hogwarts at four you see."

"That's fine." He lay back and closed his eyes again, as if about to go back to sleep.

"Well, I'm not spending all of the day in bed." Extracting herself form his arms, she climbed out of bed and wandered off. Moments later, he heard the jet of the shower against the tiles.

"You don't mind if I borrow some clothes, do you?" she asked a little while later, emerging from the bathroom with her hair in a turban and a large white towel wrapped around her.

"Certainly." He nodded, deciding that he should really get up too.

Once he was showered and dressed, Lucius found her sat on the edge of the balcony, her legs dangling precariously over the edge, drinking a cup of tea. She was wearing a pair of his black trousers, presumably charmed so that they now fit her, and one of his shirts that she had shrunk and changed to a deep plum colour. He noted that, although she had shrunk the clothes, she had not altered their cut. He was loath to admit it, but they looked great on her.

"How come my clothes suit you as well as they do me?" he asked, slipping his arms around her waist.

"Because you're just so effortlessly stylish." She replied with a smile, kissing his cheek. "And I can get away with anything."

"There must be one thing that you cannot get away with." He mused, stroking her neck and kissing it lightly.

"This." She said softly, taking his hand and kissing it. "This is the one thing for which I will never be forgiven."

"Only if found out."

"The day will come." She sighed. "The day will come and I will loose everything."

"And if I told you to go and never come near me again?"

"I would refuse."

"But if that means sacrificing your reputation?"

"I'm in too deep to go back now," she shook her head, touched that he didn't want to see her damaged by this, "I might as well see it through to the end."

"You are willing to do that?" he asked in disbelief, unable to believe what he was hearing.

"Yes." She replied simply. "I might as well get the most out of you that I can." She added with a cheeky laugh.

"Speaking of which," he said mysteriously, covering her eyes with one hand and digging in his jacket pocket with the other, "I found this the other day and I though it might suit you." He placed something in her hand and uncovered her eyes once more. In her hand lay a necklace made up of three long strings of large, characteristically misshapen freshwater pearls that were all a pale grey colour.

"It's beautiful." She breathed, blushing slightly as she examined them in the light. "You have to stop doing this you know." She added as she slipped them round her neck.

"But I see no reason not to buy something that suits you."

"People will wonder whom you are buying for as you no longer have a wife." She reminded him with a raised eyebrow.

"I think people generally expect me to marry again." He shrugged. "Although I have my heir, I think people believe that I will eventually find a need for some kind of companionship."

"And what if I am photographed wearing what you have bought and it is seen by the person you bought it from?"

"Many of the pieces I have bought you have come from jewellers abroad." He explained. "I picked that up in Paris last week, from the same jeweller that made your birthday gift."

"Those necklaces were custom made?" she asked in a surprised tone.

"Of course. Such a rare colour of stone would not be made into a single set like that. I had to buy the stones raw and have them cut and then made into jewellery of my own specifications, it's not like I was going to just choose something off the shelf as a birthday present."

"Wow." She looked quite stunned at this information. "So why were you in Paris anyway?"

"I was picking up a new suit and a set of dress robes for Draco." He explained.

"I didn't know you had a tailor."

"Oh I have several," he shrugged, "one in London, one in Paris and one in Milan." He listed. "Each one has its own different style."

"So, what about this suit?" she asked, pulling at the material of the trousers. "Where is this one from?"

"That would be Milan." He told her. "Made by an extremely talented man by the name of Giuseppe Argorosso."

"Not bad."

"His family has been working for the Malfoy family for generations."

"I shall have to pay him a visit." She mused. "Anyway, what do you plan to do today, seeing as you have my undivided attention?"

"I thought I might show you the gardens." He shrugged, sipping his tea.

"I've seen them," she reminded him, "I've wandered through them loads of times."

"You haven't seen the rest of the gardens then." He rephrased. "They are a lot larger than this I assure you."

"So where's the rest, I've never seen any path?"

"You have not looked hard enough." He replied with a smirk.

"Ok, now I'm intrigued." She said with a sigh, turning around to face him. "Show me." Finishing her tea, she followed him through the house and out into the gardens.

"You'd better not be leading me on." She warned as he took her right to the edge of the gardens.

"I told you that you weren't looking hard enough." He reminded her, leading her to a patch of trees that the outer wall ran though, or so she had thought. He walked straight through them and, looking down, she could see the barely visible lines of a path. They continued walking as the trees started to thin out and he stopped as they cleared completely.

"Wow." She breathed, taking in the view. This section of the gardens was practically hidden by the way the moors dipped at this point so she had never discovered it. Below her were rolling acres of trees and large shrubs; creating secluded areas as well a large, open lawns. There appeared to be a small stream running through, ending at a small lake with a stone bridge that crossed to another part of the garden. The water was dotted with lilies that were not yet in bloom and a weeping willow hung over one end, its long, tendril-like branches skimming the water.

"I thought you might like it." He said with a smile.

"Why didn't you show me this before?" she asked with slight annoyance, following the curving path down to the bottom of the garden. The leaves on the trees had all begun to show and the garden was awash with various shades of green as well as reds, yellows and purples. Winding paths disappeared into the trees and she could well imagine spending an entire day here just getting lost.

"How big is it?" she asked as they reached the bottom.

"Well, the house is set on about four thousand acres of land, and this part of the garden is around three hundred acres."

"Wow." She said in a quiet voice.

"The house and the other part of the garden are on about two hundred acres." He continued to explain.

"So what is the rest?"

"The rest of the land is the moors and farmland around the house."

"You own a lot of Wiltshire then." She commented. "What about Stonehenge?" she asked curiously. "You're so close, is that on your land too?"

"It used to be, but I gifted that land to the Ministry to ensure its preservation."

"Dear me," she sighed, "aren't you the charitable one. No wonder the Ministry is so nice to you."

"Well, I must keep up my image as a stalwart member of society." He said with a smirk.

"Like I must pretend to despise you and everything that you stand for." She sighed. "Well, at least the second part is true." They walked in silence for a little while longer, until they were standing on the bridge.

"The Governors were quite amenable to your idea for some sort of event in the summer term." He told her, relaying the message that he said he had the day before.

"Good." She smiled, climbing up onto the stone balustrade and sitting with her legs dangling over the edge. "I'll just have to decide what to do." She was surprised when he sat down next to her but did not complain as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

"You know, this is where I used to play when I was little." He told her. "In the winter you could skate on the lake and it was great for snowball fights. In summer, you could climb in the trees and swim."

"But then you had to grow up." She finished. "You had to behave with the sensibility that is expected of the Malfoy name."

"My childhood ended when I was eleven, when I went to Hogwarts."

"Let me guess, you had to be friends with the right people and dislike the right people too."

"Yes. Much was expected of me seeing I was the heir to the family name; I had to get the top marks and make my parents proud."

"And did you?" she asked.

"I think so." He shrugged. "I was Quidditch captain for a while; I played Chaser, like you do."

"I didn't know you even played."

"I haven't for a long time."

"So what else were you?"

"I was a prefect and then Head Boy."

"So you were quite like me then." She laughed. "Although I think I got a slightly longer childhood. It ended when we were fourteen, for Harry and me," she explained, "when the Dark Lord returned."

"I can imagine." He nodded. "Not the most pleasant way to realise that you have to grow up very fast."

She stayed with him until mid-afternoon, knowing that if she was gone any longer her absence would be suspicious. They shared dinner after they were forced indoors by the rain and then spent an hour or so entwined on one of the sofas in the library as he read to her. She barely noticed the slight movements of his hands as he unbuttoned her shirt. Silently, he set the book down as her hands returned the favour. She softly kissed her way up his chest as his hands removed what was left of her clothes. She stopped him as he made to change position and instead knelt poised over him as her teeth pulled lightly at his bottom lip.

"Minx." He muttered as she lowered herself down into his lap and rocked slowly back and forwards. Nothing more was said as she slowly tormented him, making him gasp. He let his hand drift downwards and elicited a cry from her too.

"Do you have to go?" he asked as she got dressed again.

"Oh, you'll see me at Easter, don't fret!" she laughed, throwing him his shirt. "It's not that long." he watched as she summoned her green dress and jewellery from his suite and folded them into a neat pile. "What's more important is how I am to get all this home. Opening a drawer in one of the cabinets, she pulled out a sheaf of parchment and, with a few flicks of her wand, had transformed it into a bag. She put everything into it, putting her shoes on and removing the string of pearls from her neck. Buttoning up his shirt, he followed her downstairs as she pulled on her long coat and slung the bag over her shoulder.

"Well, you're welcome to come and stay over Easter as Draco is remaining at Hogwarts." He told her, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear.

"I'll be here, somehow." She smiled.

"I don't doubt that, just be careful."

"Am I ever not?" she asked with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. Not replying, he kissed her for a long time, trying to hold onto her for as long as possible. With a final smile, she readjusted her bag and then disapparated with a pop.

* * *

A/N - Dress inspired by a rather wonderful Alexander McQueen number


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer - I think you're all getting the idea by now...

A/N - A rather unpleasant event interrupt a pleasant few days.

* * *

As it turned out, there was to be no Hogsmeade visit before Easter, so she had to wait another five weeks before she had another opportunity to see him again. They had all decided to go home for the holidays as the number of unexplained deaths of Muggles had risen sharply and panic was beginning to spread through the castle; especially those with Muggle parents. They were eager to talk to Sirius, wanting to find out the latest news and any leads they had on Voldemort's whereabouts. They had stopped using the fire in the Gryffindor common room to talk to Sirius and Lupin after they were warned that the fires in the castle could be being watched by Death Eaters undercover in the Ministry. They had also grown wary with their post, preferring now to either talk face to face or use magic to sent important letters straight to Grimmauld Place in a burst of flame. 

The tension in the castle was palpable; even the teachers seemed to be on edge, especially Snape. According to what they had overheard, Voldemort and his Death Eaters were fully convinced that Snape was acting as a double-agent for them at Hogwarts. They had discerned that his mission was becoming increasingly dangerous and, from the hurried conversations that they had caught snippets of, it seemed that Voldemort was planning something; planning his great assault on Dumbledore, the Order and, more particularly, Harry and Kathryn.

They had also noticed increased security measures in the castle. Every night, on the stroke of midnight, the giant portcullis was lowered over the doors to the Entrance Hall. The doors themselves were actually locked too, having remained permanently unlocked in the past. It was a feat to watch. Kathryn had stood before them one evening as Filch and Snape had overseen their closure. What had looked like strengthening supports on the doors turned to form bars whilst, in the space they left, a second set of bars rose out of the wood and also turned to secure the entrance. No more night time visits to Hagrid, she had thought as she watched. The last time such measures as this had been taken was in the time of Sirius' escape from Azkaban. He had broken into the castle and tried to get into the Gryffindor common room, so she had been told. The school had therefore gone onto a high state of alert and the entire school had spent the night in sleeping bags on the floor of the Great Hall whilst the school was searched.

It was almost a relief when the holidays came and they were on the train back to London. They did not complain about the new measures; understanding only too well the need for good protection from Voldemort, but Kathryn did have some reservations although she did not voice them. 'What if the Death Eaters were already in the castle?' she had thought, listening to her iPod on the journey down. It was common knowledge to the Order that he was a Death Eater but, to the rest of the Wizarding world, he was a respectable gentleman. The thought 'what happens to me if he ends up locked in the castle?' had also popped into her head. She was extremely worried about what would happen should the Death Eaters ever breech the castle.

The four of them had already devised the plan of evacuating the school to the Room of Requirement, which they would wish to be Death Eater proof, before helping the teachers' take them on. This was also a worry for the inevitable stand-off between good and evil. They all knew that it would one day come and, from what they had overheard, it seemed like it would be coming soon. What would she do when she found herself locking wands with him? Would he think 'to hell with it' and try to kill her? Or, would he tactfully miss? She had yet to find out.

When they reached Kings Cross, they headed quickly for Grimmauld Place where they had a serious conversation with Sirius, Lupin, Tonks, Mr and Mrs Weasley, Mundungus, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Moody around the large table in the basement kitchen.

"They're getting more daring." Kathryn stated, poring over the latest article in the Evening Prophet.

"They always were daring." Moody growled, his magical blue eye spinning in its socket. "They're just warming up."

"I know."

"I heard them, when he came back," Harry spoke about the night in fourth year when Voldemort had returned, "they were all raring to go. Lucius Malfoy said he was ready for a spot of Muggle-torture."

"Ah yes." Mad-Eye's voice sounded very ominous. "He's good at that is old Lucius. He's got a huge mansion where no one can hear them scream." Kathryn shuddered, imagining what horrors lay in the cellars of the Malfoys home; what could have been done to her. She saw Hermione and Mrs Weasley's faces pale as he said this. "You wouldn't want to see what I have. He was very good at making them suffer."

"As to your plan." Lupin tactfully changed the subject. "We have our own plans should the Hogwarts grounds be breached, but, all the same; your idea is a good one. Mind you," Sirius cut him off mid sentence.

"It takes more than walls to stop Death Eaters."

"And you do not know if any of them know about it." Kathryn felt a stab of guilt as Lupin said this; Lucius Malfoy definitely knew the Room of Requirement existed.

"What about Voldemort, you must have some idea where he's hiding out?" Ron asked them.

"All we can say is that he seems to continuously move about." Tonks informed them.

"So, no surprises there." Hermione said dryly.

This conversation went on for a long time, until Kathryn announced that she had to go and pack. When questioned about why, she told them that one of her friends, Marie-Eve, was in England for a few days and she wanted to see her. This did cause slight uproar, especially with Moody who began to rant that she couldn't just up it and leave when there were Death Eaters running loose. She dismissed his complaint, reminding him that she was perfectly competent and was not going to let Voldemort put her off from going out.

It was with the same conviction that she left Grimmauld Place the next morning, a bag slung over her shoulder and heading for the tube; promising to be back in four days. She took an express train out of London to Reading, travelling as inconspicuously as possible, before apparating from Reading to the lane leading to the Malfoy estate. Everything was beginning to grow beautiful after winter. Droves of Daffodils lined the verges, waving in the slight breeze. She was surprised to find the wrought iron gates locked as she reached them; the iron snakes twisted together to form the lock. Unperturbed, she threw her bag over the iron points of the fence and, sticking her wand in her back pocket, pulled herself over with ease.

The locking of the gates had, however, made her suspicious and, as soon as she was over she grabbed her bag and hid herself in the trees at the edge. Walking further into the shadows, she concealed her bag in a bush and, without the slightest problem, transformed into her Animagus form. From then on, she prowled through the trees, keeping her eyes fixed on the house. Daring to chance it, she broke her cover and padded out across the lawns towards the house. She could see shapes moving through the windows and, as she got close enough, she could make out the forms of people she recognised as Bellatrix Lestrange and her husband Rodolphus, Antonin Dolohov, Crabbe and Goyle senior and Avery. She was very glad that she hadn't just wandered up the drive as she was going to.

From the upstairs window, Malfoy spotted her standing on the lawn and smiled for a fleeting moment. Kathryn only waited for another half an hour or so, staying half concealed in the trees, before they left the house and headed away. She was very tempted to leap out and attack them as the group walked up the drive. However, knowing that they would probably just kill her and be done, she stayed hidden; only transforming back into her normal self once they had apparated and Lucius Malfoy stood at his front door waiting.

"I'll not ask!" she said, smiling at him as she reached his front step. In response he kissed her, pulling her over the threshold and shutting the door. He wasted no time in dragging her up the stairs whilst pulling off as many of her clothes as possible. She didn't complain, her skin on fire; desperate for his touch. She spent most of the afternoon wandering the gardens with him; again finding her unicorn and, to her great surprise, actually reaching the stage where it let her sit on its back. Later that night, after having enjoyed one of the nicest meals she had ever eaten outside of Hogwarts, she lay beside him; lost in thought. She was thinking of the way he touched her, which was becoming something close to reverence. She spent the next two days in the same idyllic state where she did nothing but relax; completely removed from the ongoing troubles yet with one of the most dangerous men in the Wizarding world.

This idyll, however, was ruined on the day before she had to leave. It was early evening, about five o'clock, and she had gone for a walk across the meadow land that bordered his manor. She was dressed only in a thin white dress that she had found in a wardrobe and put on despite the dark clouds that were heading their way. As she looked out over the beauty of the Sailsbury Plains, the breeze rippling through her hair and making the dress float out behind her, she could see and owl approaching carrying what looked like a newspaper. Giving a small whistle, it flew to her instead of heading straight for the house as it usually did. It circled above her, dropping the folded paper into her outstretched arms, before flying off again. Thunder rumbled ominously in the distance as the owl disappeared.

Her eyes were caught immediately by the large headline reading 'THE DARK MARK – YOU KNOW WHO STRIKES AGAIN!' The thunder rumbled again, even closer than last time, whilst large drops of rain began to fall. She opened the paper to read more before heading back to the house and she caught sight of the image beneath the headline.

Her heart skipped several beats and the blood drained from her face faster than a Niffler could find gold. The thunder sounded for a third time; now directly above her. In the photograph the Dark Mark was hovering silently above a house that she recognised all too well. Her world seemed to close in on her and she heard a rushing sound in her ears. Her hand shook as they clutched at the paper, the pages crinkling under the force of her grip, and soon her entire body was shaking. Above her, the heavens opened and large drops of rain began to rush down; soaking both her and the paper. At the same time, uncontrollable tears began to stream down her face and sobs of sheer despair wracked through her body. The house above which the Dark Mark hovered was the home of her foster parents in France.

Looking out from the window of his study, he could see her standing stock still on the meadow and was wondering why on earth she was not coming in when it was raining so heavily. He watched her for a few minutes more, up until the point where he saw her legs buckle and she toppled to the ground. He bolted for the door, not even bothering to pull on a cloak, and ran through the house and out into the grounds towards her. Out on the meadow she was lying in a heap, mud staining her dress with the paper clutched to her chest, howling in grief; the tears mixing with rainwater on her cheeks.

When he reached her, she was still there sobbing, her face colourless and her entire body convulsing. Not knowing what else to do, he lifted her up into his arms and carried her back to the house; mud staining his shirt as she cried uncontrollably into his shoulder. Soaked to the skin, he carried her straight upstairs and wrapped her in a blanket. Lying her down on the bed, he removed the paper from her desperate clutch whilst she cried into the pillows. He saw the headline, the picture and the words 'France' and 'Potter' but was still at a loss to understand why she was so distraught. He quickly changed out of his mud-stained clothes and sat beside her as she sobbed; only leaving her side to fetch a cup of tea.

When he returned she seemed to have calmed down, her sobbing had stopped but now she was just lying there staring into space and not acknowledging that he was even there. She was close to catatonic and, over the three hours that she lay there, every time he checked on her she had not moved once. Leaving her alone for a little while, he gave into the pangs of hunger that tugged at his stomach and went downstairs to have some dinner. He sat in the large dining room alone, toying with his food and staring at the vacant place next to him.

It was now that she had decided to appear. Still wearing the mud-stained white dress, she wandered aimlessly down the stairs and towards the dining room. The misery inside her had been replaced by anger; a deep, resentful fury that flared inside her like fire. Rain was still drumming against the windows and, every so often, a flash of lightning lit up the black clouds. He did not notice her silently enter through the open doors and only realised she was there when she was standing but a few feet in front of him. Immediately he stood up and was at her side in seconds, his hand on her cheek.

"Don't touch me." She said in a cold, harsh voice that was most unlike her. He moved away, disturbed by the edge in her voice.

"Would you like something to eat?" he asked, not really knowing what to say. She moved forwards a little more, coming to stand behind her chair at the table. Her hand curled round the stem of a wine glass, trembling slightly as she did so.

"You did it." She spoke softly. "You did it!" she screamed, hurling the glass at him. He ducked this and it shattered against the stone fireplace.

"Did what?" he was genuinely puzzled.

"You killed them!" she screamed, picking up the china plate before her and throwing it forcefully at him. She again missed; the fine, bone china cracking off the mantelpiece and smashing into small chips.

"Killed who?" the small side-plate came flying his way, followed by his empty wine glass; the floor around him now a mess of glass and china shards.

"My foster parents, that's who!" she shrieked, her voice cracking slightly. "Is that what you were planning the day I arrived? Planning how best to ruin my life? No, wait, you've already done that."

The rest of the china crashed to the floor along with the vase of flowers that was sat on the mantelpiece above the fire. She was advancing on him now, rage burning in her eyes, paying no mind to the shards of glass that dug into her feet as she walked. She tried to launch herself at him, her hands balled into fists, but instead she more collapsed onto him; her energy suddenly disappearing. He clutched her wrists as she tried in vain to hit him; her fists flailing futilely against his chest. He held on until she gave up and slumped against his chest; dissolving once more into sobs, stamping her feet in anger and frustration, only to cause herself more pain as she drove more glass and china remnants into her feet.

Once she had calmed back down again, he scooped her up and carried her back upstairs as she was now unable to walk. She did not protest as, instead of laying her down to rest, he carried her into the bathroom where she heard him turn on the shower. Conjuring a chair from mid-air, he sat her on his knee and, before she could resist, shoved her feet under the icy, strong jet of water. The house was again filled with the sound of her screams as water cleaned out the many wounds that peppered the soles of her feet. Then, brushing away the tears that had flooded her eyes from the pain, he pulled the dress up over her head and threw it in a nearby bin.

Wrapping her in a white bathrobe, he carried her back into the bedroom and set her down on the bed. Here, he placed a towel beneath her feet whilst she lay down and, carefully began to extract the shining fragments of glass and china that were now embedded in her feet. It took quite a while, thanks to the many minute fragments there were, and how many cuts there were to heal. Once he was done she saw him fold up the fragments into the now bloodstained towel and heard the crash of them being thrown into a bin. She curled her toes, checking to see if everything was still working properly. A twinge of pain flashed across her face as the skin around the newly healed lesions stretched. She hadn't moved at all when he returned, still lying on her back and gazing up at the hangings. He sat next to her on the bed; his shirt splashed with water from the shower and stained with small flecks of blood.

She was aware of him stacking pillows against the headboard but she paid no attention to him; instead closing her eyes and willing herself not to cry. At least, that was until she felt a pair of hands pulling her into a sitting position. Whilst he had been gone, he had taken the time to quickly read the front page of the Evening Prophet and had gathered most of what had happened from it.

"Right," his voice was soft, caring almost, "what has happened?" he asked, knowing that it would be best for her to say it herself.

"They're dead. The people I lived with for fourteen years; the people who loved me like I was their own daughter and never let me go without anything are dead."

"You're sure?" he wanted to know for certain.

"I lived in that house for fourteen years." Her voice grew slightly more forceful. "I think I'll know my own house." She pronounced this in her unfaltering French. "Une grande maison dans la campagne au sud de Paris. Tranquille mais proche a la capitale." She described it, the memories bringing a tear to the corner of her eye. "I was like their own daughter to them, they never had children." Her voice was hollow as if she had no more energy left and her eyes were red from crying earlier.

"I didn't know, that's the honest truth, I didn't know that they were going to do this." He held her close, feeling truly sorry.

"It's partially my fault, I never kept where I lived a secret, never asked friends back in France not to tell; I just never thought that anything here would affect them." A tear rolled silently down her cheek.

"I wouldn't have been able to stop them anyway."

"It's not your fault, it isn't really anybody's." Her eyelids were beginning to get heavy. "I have to go home. I'll have to go to France." He could hear the fatigue in her voice.

"In the morning." He stood and pulled the covers over her, passing her a pair of her dark blue pyjamas which he helped her to pull on. "You can't go home in this state!" he smiled, running his thumb over her puffy red eyes. She smiled back at him, closing her eyes and falling asleep quickly, completely drained. He lay next to her later that night, running his hands through her hair as she slept in the crook of his arm, her head resting against his chest. For the first time ever, he felt a pang of guilt for the pain his fellow Death Eaters had caused; regretting that it had caused someone he had grown to adore so much agony.

Her knock on the door of number twelve Grimmauld Place early the next morning was not met with the excitement it normally would have been. Instead, as the door swung open, she saw anguished faces waiting expectantly. They all looked at her with uncertainty as she stepped inside, no doubt assuming that she was going to crack at any moment. She must have looked a sight; her hair was lifeless and unwashed and her eyes still slightly red and puffy from her crying jag the day before. Mrs Weasley launched herself onto her as soon as she stepped inside the kitchen, followed by Sirius, Harry, Hermione and Ron. All her friends were gathered around the table, including Dumbledore, Hagrid, Professor McGonagall and Snape, all of them looking concerned. In the middle of the table before them was an official looking letter in a black-bordered envelope with the seal of the French Ministry of Magic stamped in the corner. She slit it open and pulled out the single sheet of similarly black-bordered parchment. It contained the official notification of what she already knew. There was also another letter, which she opened and red aloud to the assembled group, translating it directly from the French it was written in.

"It's from their lawyer." She informed them. "I am the sole beneficiary of their will." She replaced the letter back in its envelope. "I need to go to France."

"Arrangements have already been made, Miss Potter." Dumbledore spoke. "You can go whenever you wish."

"Tomorrow." She spoke in a definite tone. "I have to organise the funeral, and sort out the house, not that anyone will want to live in it."

"We're coming too." Harry said as Hermione and Ron nodded. Several others around the group nodded.

"I believe we all are." Dumbledore gave a small smile. "This is, after all, not something you can go through alone."

She barely slept that night, getting up at five in the morning to pack her bag again. She found Sirius already up too; frying lots of bacon and sausages for breakfast.

"How are we getting there?" she asked him, sitting down at the table and pouring herself a cup of tea.

"Portkey. The Office of Magical Transportation has given approval." Sirius informed her, adding more bacon to the already over spilling frying pan.

"That was nice of them. Wouldn't that usually take ages to get approved?"

"Well, Dumbledore had a word and, once Fudge found out that it was for you, it was done."

"Not bad. At least all these posh do's have got me something when I need it!" she smiled weakly, nibbling on the bacon, toast, sausages and beans Sirius placed in front of her.

"You're not going anywhere until you've eaten something." He wagged his finger at her. "I'll bet you haven't eaten since yesterday morning." He was right, after she had gotten back, despite Mrs Weasley's protests; she had shut herself up in her room and started making plans for their trip to France.

The rest of the house was up at six and soon she could hear Mrs Weasley fussing over people's packing to make sure they had packed clean socks. They all trouped downstairs to breakfast where nobody spoke much and then were chivvied back upstairs to change out of their pyjamas and check their packing one final time. They were all ready by nine, standing in the hallway and saying goodbye to Dung who was going to be looking after the house while they were gone. Mrs Weasley did look slightly apprehensive; no doubt worried that Dung would be using the house to store stolen goods. The rest of the party were already waiting on platform nine and three-quarters, the portkey location, when they arrived at half past nine. All were dressed in muted colours and looked sombre.

Dumbledore was holding a bicycle tyre in one wizened hand, apparently a suitable object to transport such a large number of people. Kathryn was the first to take hold, followed by the rest of the party until they were all gathered around in a circle. The tyre glowed blue and a neutral female voice spoke.

"Nine thirty seven portkey to Paris." A swift tug behind the navel followed and they were gone.

They arrived in Paris in seconds, stepping out onto the Parisienne equivalent of platform nine and three-quarters where the French Minister for Magic was waiting to greet them. He greeted Dumbledore first and then turned to Kathryn, kissing her hand and offering her his condolences in his best English. She paid him the same courtesy by politely reminding him that she had spent her childhood in France and was therefore completely capable of speaking their language. He looked slightly taken aback by this but soon recovered his composure and led them to the waiting fleet of black cars outside the station. They transported them to the French version of Diagon Alley; accessed through the back yard of a Brasserie invisible to Muggle eyes. This was apparently just to show them where it was because they did not stop and they soon found their luggage being unloaded at what seemed to be a run down, abandoned building on the banks of the Seine. She could make out people muttering as they walked past; saying to their companions how they wished the Paris council would renovate the eyesore of a building.

As it turned out, it was like St Mungo's in London and, as they stood before its bleak exterior, a door appeared where the old one was boarded up. Very nonchalantly, they stepped through into the plush reception of a hotel. The Welcome Witch informed them that their accommodation was being provided by the French Ministry of Magic before handing them their gold keys to their rooms. They had an hour or so to settle into their rooms before more cars arrived to take them to the house; situated to the north of the city, in the bordering countryside. The cars seemed to have the same traffic-avoiding qualities of the Ministry cars back in England as, quite spectacularly; they navigated the roundabout round the Arc de Triomphe in seconds. From then on they ran red lights and jumped to the front of queues of cars to get out of the city centre as fast as possible.

She was dreading what lay ahead. She didn't want to go through her foster parents' home, searching for things that she wanted to keep. The previous night she had sat, quill in hand, making a list of things she had to do upon their arrival and any things she needed to remember from the house. She already knew what she was going to keep; all her old Beauxbatons things, her childhood drawings that had once papered the walls, photographs, jewellery and any particularly valuable items of furniture or heirlooms.

They had been a relatively neat family and things were boxed away with labels in the attic if there was no space in the house. This list had taken a long time to compile, despite her having a clear idea of what she had to keep, as thoughts of Lucius Malfoy kept drifting into her mind. She had been trying to decide if she should hold an open funeral or not. If she didn't, she would have to find a plausible excuse to invite him. However, if it was an open funeral, she had no control over who came and it was therefore not her fault if he showed up.

Her heart began to flutter as they got closer and closer to her old home, the cars going ridiculously fast along the winding country lanes. Soon, the large old farmhouse came into view with its slate roof and conical tower that jutted off one of the corners. It looked exactly as it had always done, except that now a sense of foreboding filled her as she drew near. She could have been looking at the picture that had graced the front page of the Evening Prophet apart from the absence of the Dark Mark in the air above.

"Nice house." Ron commented as they turned into the drive. Harry, Ron and Hermione had never visited her old home in France, she had always planned to take them, but they had never had the time. She regretted that they had to visit under these circumstances. She stepped out into the paved front courtyard with its old cast iron fountain that had never worked. Only now, the flagstones were littered with fragments of the thick oak doors that had once stood in the gap that remained. All that remained of her front door were two chunks of wood attached to the hinges. Blocks of sandstone littered the floor, reminders of how the door had been blasted away. She stepped inside the cool, tiled Entrance Hall; her heels clicking off the floor as she followed the trail of destruction the Death Eaters had left behind.

She followed it through into the lounge area. Chunks of stuffing had been ripped from the sofa and chairs had been upended. There were also several large scorch marks on the walls and several panes of smashed glass in the French doors that lead out to the patio and back garden. The kitchen and dining room were relatively unscathed, the damage instead moving upstairs. She could see more scorch marks on the walls and, at intervals, chunks of wall were missing due to the curses her foster father had been firing back in return. Upstairs; the devastation ended again as this was where her foster father had been found. The tiled floor was wet and the sink was ruined, half the washbowl lying on the floor whilst a tap sat in the bottom of the toilet bowl.

"Right." She took a deep breath. "I'll start in my room and mark everything I want to keep." Her voice sounded a bit shaky. "Feel free to have a wander round and look for anything that may be useful." She headed off to the other side of the house, followed by Harry, Ron and Hermione.

"This isn't your room." Ron said as they walked through the door. "It's a library."

"Yes Ron, but watch carefully." She walked over to one of the bookcases that lined the walls and ran her fingers over the leather bound volumes it contained. Apparently finding the one she wanted, she gave it a tug and, as if it were a lever, it swung forwards then back into place. Standing back; the three of them watched in amazement as the entire bookcase swung forward to reveal a circular room inside.

"Wow!" Hermione whispered. It was huge; with a wrought iron spiral staircase running up one side leading up and down another level. This level was partitioned off with glass bricks to form a bathroom. They followed her downstairs into a room filled with comfy chairs, bookcases, a desk and a large fireplace.

"It's more than the cupboard under the stairs." Harry commented, casting his eyes round the spectacular space. Kathryn was, meanwhile, marking everything with fiery red crosses to show that she wanted to keep it.

"I thought it was quite cool, not many people have a hidden bedroom!" Kathryn laughed, checking to make sure she hadn't missed anything. "It was also quite a practical safety thing." The three of them followed her up to the topmost level which was where she had slept. Hermione actually squealed when she saw the ceiling.

"It's like Hogwarts!" she cried, pointing above her. She was right. The conical ceiling had been bewitched to mirror the sky outside like in the Great Hall back at Hogwarts.

"Cool." Harry murmured. "This definitely beats the cupboard."

Here, Kathryn quickly packed everything she wanted to keep into an old trunk and marked that with a cross.

She went through the house quickly, evidently not wanting to stay longer than necessary. She also repaired all the holes and scorch marks on the walls as she went, as if trying to erase what had happened. When they got back downstairs, she went through each room as she had done upstairs. Several people pointed out interesting, useful and potentially valuable pieces and they were dutifully marked. A man they assumed to be the lawyer appeared once they were nearly done.

"Everything marked with a cross is to be taken back to my train. Sell the rest and the house. You can put all the money in my vault at Gringotts minus any debts that need to be settled." She told him in perfect French. He nodded before bowing to her and apparating away again.

They finished not long after that, their cars whisking them back to their hotel where many of their party decided to wander off into the city too peruse the shops and see the sights. Kathryn, who had seen the sights many times before, stayed in her room whilst Harry, Ron and Hermione went of with the twins, Sirius, Ginny and Lupin to explore. She set about contacting her foster parents' old friends to tell them the funeral arrangements for the day after next. Her next task was to organise the day itself to make sure everything would run like clockwork. It was due to start at ten thirty in the morning with a service in the cemetery chapel before the burial. The wake was to be held at their hotel; in the downstairs ballroom and was kindly being paid for by the French Ministry of Magic at the request of Cornelius Fudge.

The final thing she did was send of invitations to Fudge, the French Minister for Magic, several of the teachers at Hogwarts, Madame Maxime and a general invitation to all the Hogwarts Governors. That way, she could avoid any uncomfortable situation with having a Death Eater at the funeral of people they had killed. She didn't care what anyone else would think if he showed up; all she wanted was for him to be there. Harry, Ron, Hermione, everyone could protest as much as they wanted; she wouldn't listen.

Once she had finished this, she headed out into the spring sunlight that was bathing the French capital. She did feel at ease here, like she was back home; only this time her return to the streets she knew so well was tinged with pain and loss. She didn't feel as happy as she normally would of as she strolled down the boulevards. She ran into Hermione, Ron, Ginny and Harry on the Champs Elysées; Hermione goggling at the innumerable boutiques and then at the bags Kathryn had acquired in them.

"What?" she asked, noticing Harry eyeing her bags. "You didn't expect me to come to Paris and not go shopping, did you?" she laughed, leading them up to one of the cafés where they sat nibbling pastries.

The next day went like a blur as Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, Ginny, Tonks, Sirius, Lupin and several others had insisted that she show them the best places. She traipsed around the city with them following behind her; taking them to all the best places, the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe, Place de la Concorde and Sacre Coeur where she made them climb the many steps up to the basilica on the hill. It was worth putting up with their complaining to see the looks on their faces when they reached the top and saw the view of the city below. She took them to the best shops that were tucked away in streets off the main boulevards. It felt strange to now, after all this time, be sharing her old life with her brother and best friends. She had never really spoken to them much about her childhood, partially because she was afraid she would be rubbing Harry's nose in the fact that she had a loving pair of foster parents who had done their best to give her everything she needed.

* * *

A/N - The hill bit was inspired by the scene with Alan Rickman and Kate Winslet in 'Sense and Sensibility'. I know he could've apparated but I thought that running was more dramatic! 


	20. Chapter 20

A/N - This is technically the secont part of Chapter 19 but I decided to split it because it was a bit long! The funeral and its consequences; a prime example of self-destructive behaviour and some rather gentlemanly conduct.

* * *

All too soon, the day of the funeral came and the black Ministry cars were waiting for them. Kathryn donned her best clothes; a fine black dress, bought just the other day, with a velvet corseted bodice that ran elegantly down to her waist. It had relaxed; off the shoulder straps that were made up of many folds of heavy silk. They were thick and hid the top of the bodice so that it was only visible from just bellow the bust. The skirt ended at the knee and was made of the same, heavy silk and fell in thick folds that clung to her figure perfectly, giving what could have been a relaxed dress a much more severe look. This was coupled with a pair of satin covered, high, court shoes and a cloak that was fur trimmed and more an extravagant wrap than a cloak thanks to its lack of proper sleeves and the way it slouched off her shoulders. The final additions were the heavy set of diamonds in her ears and around her neck and his ruby ring on her finger. She pulled her hair up off her face with a clip that held it up but still allowed it to flow down her back. She stood before her mirror for a long while, debating where she stood on the wearing of hats at funerals. As a compromise, she conjured some black feathers and stuck them strategically in her hair so they followed its flow and accentuated its waves.

The rest of the group were waiting in the hotel atrium, everyone was dressed in head to toe sombre colours; even Tonks had dropped her usual bright hair for more solemn deep purple waves. Keeping her head held high, she led the way out to the waiting cars. She was sat in the lead car along with Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Sirius, Mr and Mrs Weasley, Tonks and Lupin. They travelled in slow procession through the centre of Paris towards Père Lachaise cemetery which, for today only, had been closed to the public and was covered in Muggle-repelling charms.

She had visited this place several times when she had lived here, finding it one of the best places to come and think, thanks to the air of serenity that perennially surrounded it. It had an air of majesty about it too, thanks to the many large mausoleums and elaborate headstones that lined the avenues. She could have wandered in here for hours, finding the famous wizards interspersed amongst the Muggle headstones.

The service was short; held in the large chapel at the centre of the cemetery which was filled to capacity with both her friends and the friends of her foster parents. Although many people shed tears over this needless tragedy, Kathryn kept a brave face despite the guilt welling inside of her thanks to the figure standing in the shadows at the back of the room. From there, the coffins were borne on the shoulders' of pallbearers to their final resting place near the top of the cemetery. This area, at first appearing to be packed full of Muggle graves was, in fact, a lush green space with plenty of space between the headstones. She felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes as their coffins were lowered into the ground of their family plot. Into this she threw a flower for each of them as well as a framed photograph of the three of them together; taken in happier times before she left for England.

Once this was over, guests milled around; all offering her their condolences. She was pulled away from this, however, by Harry, Ron and Hermione who all had appalled looks on their faces.

"What does he think he's doing here?" Hermione said with a note of utter disgust in her voice.

"Who?" she asked, but she could already guess. The three of them nodded their heads towards the grave where, as they watched, the Hogwarts Governors were laying a wreath against the black granite headstone. Lucius Malfoy was amongst them.

"Is he just here to rub your nose in it or what?" Ron whispered scathingly. "I don't know what's going to happen when Sirius or Moody see him."

"How is he here?" Harry asked more specifically. "I thought it was a more 'by invitation only' thing?"

"I issued a general invitation to all the Governors." Kathryn explained. "I couldn't very well invite all but one of them, could I?" she kept her voice low, not wanting to attract attention to themselves.

"Yes, well," Hermione whispered nervously, "can't you throw him out or something?" she asked, glancing nervously around.

"Yeah, because that's not going to attract attention." Kathryn replied in a sarcastic voice.

"Couldn't Sirius or Dumbledore have a word with him or something?" Ron asked.

"Or Moody?" Harry suggested with a mischievous glint in his eye, knowing how turning Lucius Malfoy into a ferret would make his day.

"No." Kathryn said in a much firmer tone that had a hint of warning in it. "I will not have this turn into a fight."

"Ok," Harry raised his hands defensively, "just, aren't you at all insulted?" he asked her seriously.

"Of course I am, I mean, he probably did it." She brushed it off with a wave of her hand. "I'll get him back some other time, don't worry about that." They laughed slightly, the three of them fixing him with icy stares whilst she raised her eyebrows apologetically.

People soon began to disperse, walking down towards the main avenue where there were plenty of black cars waiting to take them back to the hotel for the wake. She lingered at the back of the crowd, walking slowly and pretending to be lost in thought. When she was sure no one would notice; she slipped down one of the many winding paths that led away from the main thoroughfares. She hoped that she had chosen the right one as she wandered slowly down the tree-lined avenue. Sure enough, he was there, standing looking at one of the extravagant tombstones that had a bronze figure of a man bursting out of a granite block.

"I see you decided to come." She said, smiling up at him.

"I did, although I got the feeling that some people didn't want me here." He meant Harry, Ron and Hermione.

"I wanted you here." Her hand found his. "You're the first thing that's made me smile all day." She admitted. An expression of compassion crossed his face before he pulled her into his arms; just holding her there for a little while.

"You were the first person to make me smile after Narcissa died." He confessed as he held her there.

"You'd better go." She said, pulling away and wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. "Harry, Hermione and Ron are already infuriated that you're here; they're taking it as some kind of insult." She explained their icy looks before. "They think you did it." She blurted out after a moment.

"Well, you know I didn't, I couldn't have. I have a concrete alibi but I'm not sure if that would help my case." She knew what he meant; at the time of the attack he had been with her.

"They were tortured." She said in a small voice, as if she didn't really want to say it.

"I heard. It has Bella's handiwork all over it." He said in a sombre voice. "I don't know for certain, I haven't seen her." He explained. "But it's the kind of thing she'd do."

"I can well believe that." Her voice had gone as hard as steel. "Anyway, go." He kissed her on the cheek then swept off down the hill. She took a different route, walking slowly so they didn't arrive on the 'Rue Principal' at the same time. As she walked, her resolve to get even stiffened and she found herself plotting what she was going to do to Bellatrix Lestrange if she ever came up against her. She and Neville would have to share.

Emerging onto the 'Rue Principal' she saw a mass of people in black all waiting for her before they left. She was touched by this but could not return to the façade of the distraught daughter, not when she was so angry inside. Instead she strode through them; her head held high and her heels clicking off the cobbles. Her face was a mask of determination and strength that did not waver as she walked down the centre of the road to her waiting car. She proved what Hermione had said to Harry and Ron on the day of the Governors' visit; even at a funeral she managed to turn the head of everyone gathered there as she did what the jokingly called her 'ice queen strut' past them.

She didn't speak to anyone on the way back to the hotel. She could hear Sirius, Lupin and Moody talking in hushed voices about the apparently unwelcome presence of Lucius Malfoy and what they should do about it. She spent the rest of the journey back worried about having to prevent a stand off between them without betraying anything. She was glad, therefore, to find no sight of him at the wake and it appeared that he had returned to wherever he was staying.

In truth, she would have rather not had a wake as this just seemed to prolong the pain of their death; almost rubbing in the fact that she had now lost two sets of parents. She played nice, talking and thanking everyone for coming; accepting their condolences graciously the way she should. Nothing, however, brought her the comfort of his simple words and the way he had held her.

An idea dawned on her has she sat in her room later that night, looking out on the Paris skyline which was slowly growing darker as the sun sank below the horizon. Locking her door, she took the spare dress that she had bought, just in case the first one ripped or something, and, with a few neat severing charms, had removed the skirt and arms to create what was basically a corset-top. Removing her scruffy trousers and T-shirt, she pulled on a good pair of jeans that weren't tattered around the bottoms and a good pair of heels. To this she added her new top and covered her shoulders with a thin, black cashmere wrap-round cardi that she had found the other day and subsequently bought several in various colours. Not bothering to change her jewellery, she grabbed a black clutch and headed out the door; walking quickly out of the reception so as not to be noticed leaving and stepping out onto the bustling street.

She walked quickly down the banks of the Seine until she came to Pont Neuf; from here heading straight for the doors of the Georges V where the same doorman in his smart red coat held the door open for her. She had a hurried conversation in French with the young receptionist, making up a story about him asking her to meet him here. After a few moments, she had his room number and was riding up to the top floor and to the same suite she had stayed in during the summer. She stood knocking at the door for five minutes before turning on her heel and walking down the corridor and back to the elevators. She left a message at the reception desk for him, should he choose to appear, and then headed off into the city centre. Two minutes after she walked out the front door, he stuck his head out of the door to his suite, looking up and down for the person who had been knocking.

Kathryn, meanwhile, was riding the Métro towards the French capital's hottest nightspot. At the top of Boulevard Haussman, she found what she had been looking for. The small sign that shone brightly was ignored by all the Muggles that walked quickly past, heading for their favourite bars. This was Tonnerre, the club that was legendary in London. It was the equivalent of the Muggle clubs that anyone who was anyone wanted to be seen in. She walked straight in, only to be stopped by the security wizard just inside the door. Unfazed, she brushed her hair away from her forehead to give him a glimpse of her scar. Instantly he apologised and promptly stood aside to let her in. Before heading for the bar, she whispered something in his ear and he nodded. She supposed this was one of the good things about having her scar; anywhere would let you in because you brought instant business.

In a matter of seconds she had her first free cocktail in her hand and was letting the calming effect of the alcohol wash over through her. The music was loud, the alcohol flowing and she soon felt her troubles lift as she wandered over to the dance floor. Back at the Georges V, over two hours later, Mr Malfoy was walking through the foyer after having had a note delivered to his suite. It contained just one word 'Tonnerre', and he had no idea what it meant. He walked through the streets without a passing glance at the magnificent boulevards, heading straight for the reception of the hotel where she was staying. The friendly receptionist on the desk explained that Tonnerre was a club and told him exactly where to find it. He left quickly, not wanting to bump into any of her friends who were likely to be around. It was nearly half past eleven when he reached Tonnerre, over two hours since she arrived, and several drinks into the night.

He was surprised to be let in immediately, despite the receptionist having told him that it was a very exclusive place. The burly security wizard even pointed him over to the dance floor; telling him that the person he was looking for was over there. The music was deafening as he walked through the crowds of half-drunk wizards and witches who were dancing wildly around. He stood there in the chaos for several minutes, trying to spot Kathryn in the crowd. His eye was caught, therefore, by the beautiful figure who was dancing on a table in the middle of the floor. He pushed his way closer and there she was, dancing in a very sexy manner on one of the scarred bar tables. Cocktail in hand she writhed in time to the pulsating track, completely lost in the rush of the alcohol and the music.

He watched her for a few moments more, before he noticed the way other people were looking at her. Predatory glances went her way from every corner and a crowd of young men were standing round the base of the table and pulling her back down to dance with them. She did not realise what was happening, seemingly in a daze as she continued to dance, oblivious to the way their hands roamed across her. Overcome with a desire to extract her from this potentially dangerous situation, he pushed his way through the dancing throng until he was standing right next to them. He saw several of them men give him odd looks, wondering what he was doing, but paid him no mind; assuming he liked the pretty girl too. Kathryn still hadn't opened her eyes and she danced on, moving herself teasingly around him. At least, that was until he reached out his arm and touched her elbow.

It was as if a charge of electricity had woken her from her trance. She opened her eyes to see him looking right at her and suddenly her sensed flared to life. She became immensely aware of the eager hands running themselves over her as the men continued to dance and her eyes widened in panic. Seeing this fright in her eyes he acted accordingly; gently steering her away from them and towards the door where she spilled out into the cool night. He kept his arm protectively around her waist as they walked away, cutting through a side street and emerging halfway up the now quiet Champs Elysées.

"What were you thinking?" he asked in mild disbelief, referring to the way she had let them touch her.

"I…I," she stammered, "well, I am slightly drunk." She giggled, wobbling in her high shoes.

"If you wanted to see me, why didn't you just apparate straight to my room?" he asked, holding onto her elbow to keep her steady.

"I wanted to go out; you didn't answer the door so I went out by myself. I'm still allowed to do that aren't I?" she said defensively, sounding almost bitter, wrenching her arm away from his grip. He caught her arm again as she nearly fell over for the second time.

"Yes, but-" she cut him off.

"But what?" she asked. "But what? You don't run my life!" she shouted at him, slurring slightly and trying to break away from his grasp. "You don't run my life." Her voice cracked slightly and tears streaked silently down her cheeks. They had reached the banks of the Seine by now and he stopped beneath one of the trees that lined the paths, taking hold of her shoulders and turning her to face him.

"No one runs your life. I don't think anyone would dare try." He looked straight into her eyes that were still full of tears. He brushed these away with his thumb. "No more crying, at least, not for now." He teased her face into a smile with his fingers; making her laugh out loud in the middle of the silent street.

"Fine." She smiled and moved back next to him as they walked back down the river towards his hotel. There was no one in the reception as they arrived back, the receptionists in their office and the doorman finished for the day. Nobody saw her come back with him. Nobody saw her go all the way up to his room with him. Even if people had seen, she was well past the point of caring; it wasn't like Muggles knew who either of them were.

She made the first move; leaping onto him as soon as he had gotten his jacket off, hungry for him as if she hadn't seen him in weeks. He was by no means displeased by this and responded to her advances with ardour, his hands searching frenetically for the laces at the back of her corset. The two halves sprang apart as he pulled at the tight bow holding them together.

"Now, you looked beautiful today," he told her between kisses, "but you look even better like this."

His hands were beginning to toy with the buttons on her jeans now that her top was sitting loose on her waist. She smiled and kissed him again, her fingers slipping the buttons of his shirt through their holes. Pausing for a moment he pulled her top completely off and she did the same with his shirt, throwing it aside. His lips found hers again as he tugged the denim of her jeans off her hips and slid them to the floor. Standing before him in only her underwear, he swept her off her feet and carried her through to the bedroom where, just nine months ago, they had been in the same situation. She did not give up once he was on top of her, making up for her personal loss with an even stronger desire for him.

She also took pleasure in the simpler things, like the way he held her as they slept; the way his warm body curled protectively around hers. For the first time since she arrived, she slept soundly and woke up with a smile on her face. This smile faded quickly, however, when she saw that it was nearly ten in the morning and they were due to leave at eleven. She pulled her clothes on quickly, carefully concealing her top with her wrap, before giving him a lingering goodbye kiss; slapping his wrist as he made to pull her back down onto the mattress next to him.

The morning was incredibly fresh and she stopped in her favourite patisserie on her way back to their hotel, buying a large bag of assorted pastries for breakfast. The owner couldn't have looked happier as she bought nearly his entire batch of croissants, pain au chocolats and pain raisins. She walked on, breathing in the cool spring air of what promised to be a sunny day. This good mood was shattered, however, the moment she stepped inside the reception of their hotel. She found a worried looking Harry, Ron and Hermione in the foyer, questioning the bewildered receptionist about her whereabouts. She giggled and pointed behind them to where Kathryn was standing.

"Where have you been?" Harry asked in a strained sounding voice.

"Morning walk," she said simply, "I brought pastries!" she held up the four large bags with a grin on her face.

"Great, breakfast!" Ron exclaimed, grabbing one of the bags and pulling out a croissant. "You bought enough to feed an army."

"Well, there are more than four of us, Ron!" Kathryn laughed, discretely pulling her cardigan tighter as she wasn't sure that the three of them would believe that she had gone to buy pastries dressed the way she was.

"Hang onto these, I've got to pack." She shoved the bags into their arms and dashed off to the elevators, riding up to her room on the top floor. She quickly pulled off her top, heels and jeans and replaced them with Birkenstocks, baggy jeans, a fitted T-Shirt and her favourite chocolate brown shrug. Then, with a quick wave of her wand, everything packed itself back into her bag. Taking a glance in the mirror, she ran her fingers through her slightly dishevelled hair to tease out the kinks and, reluctantly, sprayed herself with some perfume to disguise any of his scent that still lingered on her.

Minutes later, she was back downstairs and her bag was being loaded into the waiting cars whilst she sat in the reception eating pastries with Ron, Harry, Hermione, Ginny, Sirius, Lupin, Tonks, Fred, George and Dumbledore. She was happy to be going home, preferring to get away from the painful memories than stay and let them eat away at her any longer. Her heart was untroubled, at least until the receptionist came over and whispered in her ear. Without a word to the rest of them, she stood and followed the receptionist over to the front desk. On the shelf of polished black granite was a vase of what must have been two dozen black roses.

"Would you like them sent over to the cemetery?" she asked Kathryn in French.

"No," Kathryn replied in equally perfect French; shaking her head as she spotted the card that was nestled amongst the blooms, "I'll just take them with me." She lifted the surprisingly light vase off the desk and carried it back over to where they were sitting; carefully slipping the card into her pocket as she walked, already knowing who they were from.

"Where are they from?" Sirius asked as she sat down again.

"Don't know, they've just arrived." Kathryn explained, her hands toying with the petals.

"Aren't you going to send them over to Père Lachaise?"

"No, they look too expensive to be sitting in the open for days. Anyway, I might as well keep something." She lied; carefully keeping her mind sealed from Dumbledore's piercing blue eyes as she talked.

"Is there no card or anything?" Harry asked, looking curiously at the impressive bouquet.

"Nothing. I'm sure I heard someone say yesterday that their bouquet hadn't arrived, maybe this is it, and they just delivered it late." Kathryn lied even more. Harry nodded, but didn't look completely satisfied. They didn't have time to further argue the point as Mrs Weasley bustled in telling them that they could leave, having just supervised the packing of the bags.

Their cars sped them to the station in no time, expertly conquering the Paris morning traffic, and ensuring that they were at the station on time. There was a little pomp and ceremony to see them off, the French Minister for Magic waiting on the platform to see them off.

They used the same tyre to return to London and, with one final look at the magnificently constructed station, they disappeared.

Muggle children gambolled about clutching onto Easter eggs as they walked through Kings Cross station; waiting for trains to either take them home or whisk them off on holiday. They all felt very gloomy as they apparated back to Grimmauld Place where the rain was drumming off the windows. Mrs Weasley, however, had anticipated their sour moods and they found a stack of her best Easter eggs sitting on each of their beds. They took refuge on the sofas by the fire in Kathryn's room and sat there, munching on the chocolate, just talking by themselves for the first time in ages.

Normally this would have been a nice thing to do; however, they had come home to the discovery of more murdered Muggles. In the three or so days that they had been away there had been another five killings of Muggles, all of them with the Dark Mark hovering in the air above their houses. These were different, however, as the Death Eaters seemed to have gone a step further and had actually killed a couple where the wife was a witch and the husband a Muggle. 'Reports that the victims were tortured are, as yet, still unconfirmed' the Sunday Prophet read, 'Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic, refused to make comment as he arrived at the Ministry this morning after attending the funeral of the foster parents of Kathryn Potter, also murdered by Death Eaters, in Paris on Saturday,' it went on.

"Knew they'd work you in there somewhere." Ron said; biting off a chunk of an egg painted with Quidditch goal hoops.

"Sources inside the Ministry say that Fudge is coming under increasing pressure to intensify the hunt for these dangerous individuals after this high profile killing." Hermione read out loud. "Oh please! As if killing innocent Muggles isn't high profile enough." She sounded definitely put out. Kathryn also felt guilty that the murder of her foster parents had caused so much media attention. Beneath that, however, was the weightier guilt of what she was doing behind their backs.

"We need to do something." She said in a small voice as she nibbled on her chocolate.

"What, apart from stop Voldemort!" Ron said in a sarcastic tone.

"I'm serious Ron," Kathryn said in an earnest tone, "think of what it's going to be like when we get back to school. People are going to be panicked. We need to do something to life their spirits, maybe when it gets to summer." She seemed to be thinking out loud.

"Like what?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know." Kathryn shrugged her shoulders. "The ball last year went down well, maybe we could organise one in the summer."

"Maybe. We should talk to Dumbledore and McGonagall when we get back." Hermione sounded convinced and Harry and Ron were nodding in agreement too.

"Well, I mentioned something to the Governors a while ago about doing something in the summer term and they weren't averse to the idea, so it should be pretty easy to do." Although she really did want to do something fun, deep down inside, Kathryn was glad that she had just manufactured another situation in which to see him.

They returned to the school with this idea buzzing in their heads. They also returned to a common room filled with much new furniture. Kathryn's heart gave a slight twinge as she saw the many students sitting in the armchairs and working at desks that she had brought back from her foster parent's home in France.

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A/N - 'Tonnere' means 'Thunder' in French...thought it sounded like a good name.


	21. Chapter 21

A/N - Just a little enouter, they contemplate on how things have changed. Note that he spends the night even though he has little reason to, just because he wants to.

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The first half of the Summer term went very quickly and not a week went by without at least one Death Eater killing. General happiness in the castle seemed to have reached an all time low. Of course, apart from with Draco Malfoy who grew increasingly arrogant and, consequently, even more annoying. He actually became annoying to the point where, one night when he was doing his Prefect duty, Kathryn actually followed him under the cover of her invisibility cloak and hexed him once he reached one of the most remote corridors of the castle. He was found just after breakfast the next morning in the full body bind and with large, pus filled boils all over his face. They saw him hurrying along to the hospital wing the next morning, along with Snape, with his robes covering his face.

"Well, I would have used a bat-bogey hex." She told them over lunch, Malfoy now boil free and looking in a vicious mood. "But Ginny is well known for that so I didn't want her to get the blame."

"He deserved it." Ron said before Hermione could tell her off.

"Anyway, I figured that I owe him a lot of hexes before I completely get my own back for what he did last year." She referred to the curse that he had put on her, nearly killing her.

"Yeah, scrubbing out the owlery really wasn't enough." Harry agreed with his sister.

"We can only hope that the Ravenclaw beaters' knock him off his broom next weekend."

"That wouldn't do any better; his Dad would go the whole hog and try to get them expelled or something." Hermione said in a depressive tone.

"He couldn't, it's part of the game." Harry protested.

"He'd try."

"Dumbledore would never let him anyway, Hermione." Kathryn shook her head at the irrational level this had gone to. "He may have a hand in every pocket, but not here. The Governors can influence school rules, allocate funds, appoint and dismiss teachers and all of that stuff," Kathryn explained, "but they have no real control over the running of the school, they only set the guidelines, and they have no power to influence expulsions."

"How do you know all that?" Ron goggled at her.

"I've talked to them, I've read books." Kathryn shrugged.

"Well, it's a good thing that they don't influence expulsions." Ron said in a relieved tone. "Otherwise they'd have had us out by second year, what with the car, the polyjuice potion and the Basilisk." The four of them laughed. It was true; in all their years at Hogwarts they must have broken hundreds of school rules, especially during Umbridge's tenure; when you broke the rules just to get back at the evil toad. Even if you were caught, despite your having to write lines with a quill that incised the words into the back of your hand, you knew that you had caused enough mayhem to really annoy her. She and Harry still had the words 'I must not tell lies' on the backs of their hands, and they were only beginning to fade after just over four years. Despite Hermione's strong ideals about how they shouldn't be breaking the rules, they had become the best at it in the school, partially due to their possession of two invisibility cloaks and two Marauder's Maps.

The day of the last Quidditch match before the final dawned bright and clear, with a light breeze and only a few wispy white clouds scudding across the pale blue sky. The match was being played in the afternoon to allow the pitch to dry out after the torrential rain of the past few days.

"Why do we always have to play Slytherin in torrential rain?" Ron moaned as they walked out across the lawns towards the pitch.

"Because we'll thrash them anyway, Ron. It doesn't really matter on the weather!" Kathryn laughed. "We do get to play them in the sun though, you know, when we kick their spoiled little arses in the final." Several large Slytherin seventh years cracked their knuckles menacingly as they heard this. The four of them replied by staring them down, not intimidated in the least, being at least two years older than them and having faced tings far worse than five beefy Slytherins.

"It's better for tactics too." Harry added. "They don't notice that you're flying straight for them until you're five feet away."

"On a Firebolt you don't notice someone's flying for you until they've gone past!" Ron laughed, feeling glad for the fact that he didn't have to play against Harry and Kathryn as, when it came to Quidditch, they were the most competitive players in the school. At least, that was the way it went when it came to matches against Slytherin. When it came to their other matches, Kathryn wasn't as worried about aggressive tactics and clever strategies as she knew that Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw were less likely to take every opportunity to foul them. When it came to Slytherin, she went into killer mode and matched Malfoy's desire to win by any means with her own desire to show them up. Harry, Ron and Hermione loved this as, each and every time; she ensured the humiliation of Malfoy in front of the entire school and his father who was always watching.

They sat in the front row of the stands with Neville, Luna, Ginny, Dean and Seamus. Across the stadium from them, she could make out the blond head of Lucius Malfoy watching as his team predictably cruised to an easy victory. She could also see, however, the way his eyes lingered several times on their part of the stadium and she knew that he was looking at her. The game ended quickly; the speed of the Slytherin team's brooms giving them the definite upper hand.

"Hermione." Harry asked as they walked back towards the castle. "Are you going to let us have the day off from revision?" he said this tentatively as Hermione was already highly strung even though the exams did not start until after the half term holidays.

"I gave you today off anyway. I said I'd help Dennis Creevey with his transfiguration tonight; he's a little worried about the NEWT's."

"That's ok then, we said we'd help the fifth years with their practical stuff for Defence Against the Dark Arts." Ron explained. "We're meeting them in the Room of Requirement after dinner.

"All three of you?" Hermione raised an eyebrow, knowing that they did not really need three people to do that sort of stuff.

"Not me, Hermione." Kathryn shook her head. "I might go for a wander, I'd quite like to just relax for a while." The sun had come out fully now and it was shaping up to be quite a nice day.

"Not bad, just don't get used to it!" Harry laughed. "At least, not yet!"

After a dinner of corned beef pie, salad and ginger cake; Kathryn broke with what had become habit over the last year. Instead of heading to the seventh floor and consequently the Room of Requirement, she turned in the other direction as she left the Great Hall and headed out into the grounds. She made sure that people saw her wave goodbye to Harry, Ron and Hermione at the doors of the Great Hall and head the opposite way, especially one person who she knew would want to find her at some stage.

Taking of her trainers and socks, as the grass had by now dried off, she padded barefoot across the lush green lawns and down toward the lake. It was refreshing to feel the blades of grass between her toes, tickling her feet as she walked. Reaching the lake, she rolled up the bottoms of her jeans and walked through the shallows; feeling instantly calm as the cool water touched her skin. Settling herself on the grassy bank concealed by an outcrop of blossom trees, she kept her feet submerged; twirling them round and making patterns in the sand at the bottom. She allowed her mind to wander as she lay there; her eyes closed, the early evening sun warming her skin. Her mind worked its way through everything; the continual thoughts of Voldemort that forever lingered in her mind, her friends and how she was betraying them, Lucius Malfoy and the increasing uncertainty she had over her feelings towards him. Was she falling in love, or had she been in love for a while already and her heart had just been denying it?

She wasn't sure how long she had lain there when a shadow fell across her face.

"I don't suppose I need to ask who it is?" she said to the person standing over her. In response, the figure kissed her. "Yep, didn't think so." She gave a satisfied smile, still not opening her eyes.

"So, we have the same line up for the final as we have had for the last three years. Your predictions for the outcome?" he asked, sitting next to her on the grass.

"I will say nothing yet, but, I have never lost a Quidditch match and I do not intend to stop now." She smiled at him, flicking water at him with her toes.

"I couldn't persuade you otherwise?" he ran his hand enticingly down her back.

"Not for all the gold in Gringotts. Nor for anything you can give me." He was surprised to hear her saying this. He could give her something she had probably desired for over a year; freedom from him. And yet, she would be prepared to refuse this for the sake of Quidditch.

"You're sure?"

"Yes. Also, somehow I don't think I'd be able to convince the team to play badly." She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. In response, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer to him. "Don't fret. It's the last time you'll have to see your team, and your son, humiliated. I do apologise for taking such pleasure in it." She laughed, kissing him again before he could reply.

"Apology accepted." He smiled back at her.

"Anyway," she went on, "we may be having another ball if I can sway the teachers." She told him excitedly.

"Why? There isn't any real reason."

"Well, everyone's pretty depressed thanks to your friends' antics so I thought it might be good to do something to take our minds off it for a moment." She explained, her voice taking on a serious tone when she spoke the words 'your friends' antics'. "And you said that the Governors were agreeable to some kind of event in the summer."

"You will, of course, consider yourself taken." He said, bending his head to kiss her neck. Dusk was beginning to fall and a cool breeze was blowing through the trees behind them.

"You assume the Governors are invited." She said with an air of false surprise. "How presumptuous!" she laughed.

"You wouldn't have told me otherwise."

"I may have many young men lining up to go with me you know." She looked him up and down, as if considering his worthiness as a partner.

"So you may." He conceded. "But how many of them will provide you with adequately beautiful garments and jewels. I do not believe that students can afford what I am able to give." There was a slight tone of satisfaction in is voice as he said this.

"Will you not cause a scandal when, although you are a widower, the woman you escort is not of pure-blood ancestry?" it was a serious question, especially as he had always prided himself being a pureblood and considered all others inferior.

"Yes, but you do not go with me out of choice." He said, inventing this as he went along. "You go with me out of duty, pity and compassion."

"It won't go down well with people if they hear that I sympathise with you, let alone feel sorry for you."

"Duty it is then." He kissed her more keenly this time, pulling her gently down so she was lying next to him. She lay there for a while, gazing up at the slowly appearing stars as he kissed her. She was not, however, too lost in the moment to not notice his hands as they worked their way lower and lower on her waist until they were actually starting to undo the buttons of her jeans. She grabbed his wrist and shook her head.

"Not here." She whispered, acutely aware of how close the castle, with its many lit windows, was. He didn't seem to care; fighting her firm grip, a roguish glint in his eye.

"Live a little." He whispered in her ear.

"Yeah." She said sarcastically. "And what will I say when I get back after they've locked the doors?"

"Say you fell asleep?"

"They search the grounds too, before the doors are locked for the night." She slipped out of his grasp, straightening her top and doing up her jeans. "Things have changed slightly." She scraped her hair behind her ears in an effort to look slightly less ruffled.

"So it seems." He too stood up, also straightening himself out.

"I'll be missed," she glanced up towards Gryffindor tower, "well, they'll get suspicious. Especially as they know you're about." In his eyes, she looked truly miserable at having to leave. He leaned in and kissed her, feeling her smile as their lips met. As she made to leave, he pulled her close one final time and bent down to whisper in her ear.

"Come find me." She gave an almost indiscernible nod before running back towards the castle, shoes in hand and her raven hair flying out behind her. Had he known better, in the darkness he would have mistaken her, in her pale clothes, for being a ghost, a nymph or something ethereal like that. His wife had been a beautiful woman; regal and manicured to perfection, the perfect pure-blood wife. Yet here he was captivated by the simple beauty this girl possessed. True, she could look perfectly stately and imposing when she wanted, but this was the way he liked her best; youthful, smiling and with his ring around her finger. He had noticed that it was now a near continual feature on her elegant hand; a far cry from a year ago when she wore it in secret. He too walked back up to the castle, taking his time so their arrivals would not come too close together and consequently look dubious; the saying that walls could talk was quite true at Hogwarts.

She did look for him. Later that night she sat on her mattress, her fingers running over the Marauder's Map. She had been sitting like this for several minutes now, poring over every room in the castle. She had seen Dumbledore pacing his office as he regularly did, Filch and Mrs Norris roaming the portrait gallery, McGonagall supervising a detention and, her finger stopped dead on the parchment, Lucius Malfoy in a small room on the ninth floor.

Although she was allowed to be out in the corridors until midnight, she tucked her invisibility cloak and the Marauders' Map into her bag just in case. She was able to slip quite easily out of the common room as Hermione was huddled in a corner with Dennis Creevey poring over an essay for transfiguration and Harry and Ron had not yet returned from the Room of Requirement. She wandered quite freely through the castle, taking a long and convoluted route to the ninth floor so it looked as if she was, at various points, heading to several different places. She could feel the anticipation well up inside of her as she approached the inconspicuous door, but worked hard to conceal it as she walked straight in like it was just a spare classroom. On the other side of the door, however, she quickly made sure it was completely impenetrable with a few quick waves of her wand.

The room was dark; the heavy red drapes drawn fully across the windows and only the fire for light. She could see him sitting on the edge of the large four poster bed; his jacket discarded and his cane lying on a nearby table. She took time to study his features as he sat there waiting for her; his long blond hair fell perfectly down his shoulders and his face had a thoughtful expression playing across it. She considered this as she pulled off her jeans; considered his flawless posture, ingrained in him from his strict upbringing.

She saw his head turn at the sound of the denim hitting the floor, followed by her grey top. Standing there in only her lacy black bra and French knickers, she saw him smile as she reached into her bag and pulled out a floaty cream kaftan-esque dressing gown that reached her knees and did nothing to conceal what was beneath. She tied the drawstring loosely; making sure it highlighted her curves, before walking towards him. He reached out his arm to her as she approached, wrapping it round her waist and pulling her closer. He didn't seem to be in the mood to move for her so instead she levered herself up onto his lap and knelt there as his hands stroked up the silky skin of her back. In response she touched her lips to his face, kissing first one cheek then the other before finally meeting his lips. Once she did this, he didn't let go, his mouth locking onto hers as his hands tangled in her hair. He hungrily accepted what she offered, allowing her to remove his shirt as he did the same with her robe and underwear.

He was eager for her as he rolled over and cast the remnants of their clothes away. He hadn't seen her for nearly three weeks, since the funeral in Paris and he had found himself growing ever more impatient for her touch as the weeks wore on. The way she teasingly ran away only served to further increase his desire. On her part, she was also finding the need to be close to him increasingly frustrating as only he could make her feel the way she did. As he lay on top of her, her mind flashed back to a time over a year ago. How different her sentiments were. She remembered feeling his weight on top of her, feeling the way he used her without any regard for her feelings or the torment that this was causing her. She had lain there, unresponsive; hating herself and realising that she would not be able to fight him, no matter how hard she tried. He had stolen something that she could never get back and he would always have that power over her.

But that had been over a year ago, now, she was unsure where things lay. He never asked her to give him information anymore but she still remained with the insecurity over what would happen should she never go to him again. At this point, however, she didn't care; only concerned with being with him as he rocked her back and forth beneath him.

Afterwards, he held her close to him; kissing her face and caressing her slender frame with such tenderness she would have never thought possible a year or so ago. She too responded with feeling, running her hands whimsically through his hair, in a way she never imagined she would.


	22. Chapter 22

A/N – I don't want to say anything about this chapter because I don't want to spoil anything……

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The half term break couldn't have come quickly enough for the four of them. Tension in the castle was at an all time high and people were prone to panicky outbursts; several having to be sent to the hospital wing for a calming draught. It was visible in the teachers too. For the first time, the four of them could see how worn they looked; the pressure of the ongoing war and the duty to continue teaching was starting to show. It also didn't help that the Quidditch Cup, the exams and their summer ball were all going to be in the same half term. Kathryn was glad of the end of term as she would be able to catch up on revision; having spent a considerable amount of time training hard for the Quidditch final and helping to organise the ball.

She was relieved, then, at the arrival of an owl on their first morning back at Grimmauld Place. It was from France, informing her that the sale of her foster parents' house had been agreed and she was only needed to come and sign the papers. This would give her the chance to spend a day or two away without raising any suspicions. She packed her bag that morning and apparated straight to France, saying that she would be back in a day or two.

In truth, it took her all of thirty minutes to read and sign the papers and arrange the transfer of gold to her Gringotts vault. The large house had fetched a tidy sum, obviously being something that many people were after. The battle for it had been won, however, by a senior member of the French Ministry of Magic who was looking for somewhere to start a family. Once this was over, she wandered round Paris for a while; browsing in the shops and finding some choice items that she knew he would enjoy. She also picked up one of the best bottles of wine she could find and a selection of delicately crafted cakes from the best patisserie Paris had to offer.

She apparated back to Wiltshire, and the Malfoy Manor, just before two o'clock that afternoon. It was bright and sunny and she walked with purpose, not with the fear and trepidation she had previously done. Although she would be the last to admit it, she was becoming used to this life of luxury that she lived in secret; clandestinely slipping away to spend her time with one of the most dangerous yet handsome men in Wizarding Britain. She was welcomed at the door and he instantly pulled her into a passionate embrace with a promise of more. Teasingly, she broke away from his keen grip and motioned for him to wait where he was whilst she darted upstairs to change. She had been in Paris after all, and the shops were far too alluring to pass up.

She re-emerged some ten minutes later looking very much the alluring courtesan she definitely was not. Dressed in head to toe black she looked, in his eyes, spectacular. She could tell he was pleased, and slightly surprised, by the way his eyes widened as she descended gracefully down the large staircase. She was, basically, wearing a corset; although it looked anything but. Coloured a deep, absorbing black; it oozed sensuality as she walked; finishing on her hips where it seamlessly changed into well cut, lacy underwear of the same colour. Covering this was a delicate robe crafted out of translucent, wispy fabric; still in the same colour and with a pattern stitched on around the hem and cuffs. Being the same colour as the fabric of the corset, however, it only showed on her legs, shoulders and arms where it hung elegantly. A soft rustling followed her as she walked, her feet making no noise as she was barefoot.

She stopped a few steps before the end of the staircase, giving him the opportunity to admire her from where he stood. He looked her up and down with his arrogant, scrutinising eyes and smiled his satisfaction. In response to this she gave him a small twirl; the material of the gown fanning out around her slender legs.

"I take it you approve?" she asked as she descended the last few steps.

"Very much so." He agreed, smirking at the thought of what she could give him. He reached out his arm to her waist and pulled her into the curve of his body; burying his face in her neck and kissing its soft warm skin. She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck; drawing his head back up so she could meet his lips with her own. They were just walking over to the drawing room, his arm firmly wrapped around her waist, when they were both surprised by a sharp rap against the large wooden front doors.

"Go!" he whispered urgently in her ear as he straightened himself out and headed for the door. She, meanwhile, flew across the room on her tiptoes, towards the stairs; hoping that the person standing outside had not heard anything. She was not sure what made her do it, foolish curiosity she presumed, but she stopped near the top when she heard the door open.

"Ah Severus, do come in." She heard him say and her stomach gave a terrible lurch. Snape could only be here on a mission for the Order and that meant that she would be in a considerably more precarious position should Snape discover any trace of her presence. She resumed walking upstairs as she heard the door shut and two sets of footsteps began to make their way into the Entrance Hall.

As they reached the bottom of the stairs, something caught Snape's eye. At the top of the stairs he saw the long slender leg of what appeared to be a fairly scantily clad woman disappearing round the corner at the top in a swish of jet black fabric.

"I do hope I'm not disturbing anything, you're not," he paused, searching for the right word, "entertaining, are you?" he finished, making sure that he did not sound accusing.

"Certainly not." He lied back, walking away to the drawing room with Snape; disappointed that he would not be spending time in this room with a certain young lady he much preferred to the greasy Potions Master. No matter, he decided; he would just have to make up for lost time later on. With a satisfied smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, he sat down to business with Snape.

Upstairs, Kathryn waited for over two hours in the master suite, unable to settle. She paced round and round the large room, deeply troubled by Snape's presence and worried if he had seen or heard anything. She slumped onto a chaise lounge then lay on the bed before returning to her pacing. At the sound of a door closing she hurried to the front windows. Venturing as close to the glass as she dared she peered out at the departing form of her teacher, looking his usual greasy, bat-like self. Not far up the long drive he turned and cast a final look at the grand manor house. Despite what he had said earlier, Snape did not believe for one moment that Lucius had no one concealed in the house. This suspicion was confirmed by his sighting of a face in one of the upstairs windows. Half in shadow, he could not tell who it was, and could only make out cascades of dark hair and the makings of a refined face. Dismissing it as none of his business, he continued up the drive and out of the gates.

Standing at the window, Kathryn's mind returned to the night of the third task of the Triwizard tournament and Voldemort's rebirth. Although she had been in France at the time, at the moment Harry hit the earth of the cold graveyard, she had passed out in the middle of dinner. She had been oblivious to all attempts to rouse her by her friends and teachers; instead experiencing everything Harry had in a bizarre dream-like state. She had bled as Wormtail had drawn the blood from Harry's arm, an identical gash appearing on her arm. She had felt the searing pain in her scar as Voldemort touched Harry. She had seen the Death Eaters' return, seen them jeer as Voldemort subjected Harry and herself, however unwittingly, to the Cruciatus curse. Her teachers had been sure that she was going to die as she thrashed about in pain. She had seen her parents as Harry and Voldemort locked wands, in short, she had seen everything until Harry had landed back in the Hogwarts grounds.

"Pathetic," she murmured to herself as she watched Snape leave, completely unaware that he had also entered the room, "grovelling on the floor to kiss the robes of such a poor excuse for a man." Malfoy stopped dead in his tracks as he heard her words.

"What?" he asked in a clipped tone, barely concealing the dangerous edge to his voice.

"I saw you."

"Saw me when?" he was now puzzled as to what she was talking about.

"I saw you four years ago, the night your wonderful Lord Voldemort returned." She did nothing to disguise the sardonic tone in her voice, keeping her stare fixed resolutely out of the window.

"Do not speak the Dark Lord's name." his voice was beginning to take on a more dangerous tone.

"Whilst you were getting your kicks out of watching him hurt Harry," she continued, oblivious to his building anger, "I was unconscious on the floor at school but I could see it all." She explained. "Twins are funny like that aren't they?"

"You saw everything?" he scarcely dared believe what she was saying.

"Oh yeah. Felt it too." She rubbed the spot on her arm where that gash had appeared. "Looked Voldemort in the eyes and everything. Everyone though I was going to die."

"Do not speak his name." He warned her again, his voice was growing louder; mirroring the building rage inside of him as he stalked closer to her. Had she been facing him, she would have seen the dangerous glint in his grey eyes. Instead she went on, forgetting whom she was with.

"Absolutely pathetic!" she declared. "Crawling across the floor like some animal to kiss the robes of the great Lord Voldemort." Her voice had a tone of complete mocking in it. "The great Lord Voldemort," she continued, "defeated by babies!" she laughed, spinning round to face the now seething Lucius Malfoy who was standing behind her. The brazen smile faded from her face when she saw his face. His eyes were a steely grey that divulged no emotion other than the anger she could plainly see. His lips were a hard line, his hands were clenched into fists and she could see that every muscle of his body was tense.

"DO NOT SPEAK HIS NAME!" he roared at her and, before she could move, she felt the weight of his right hand smash into her cheek with indescribable force as he backhanded her across the face. Her eye felt like it was going to explode in her skull as the force of the blow sent her crashing to the floor; jarring her wrists as she tried to break her fall. Her head span as she leaned against the wall for support, holding her hand to her throbbing cheek. She felt the fear and panic well inside of her as he advanced on her; towering over her and screaming at her.

"How dare you speak his name with your filthy half-blood tongue." He yelled; his face livid, advancing further on her until she was practically cowering in the corner of the room. "You are not worthy to say it." He spat, fixing her with a look of utter disdain; a complete reversal of the passionate gleam that had been there just hours ago. "You do not speak it!" he yelled again. She let a small whimper escape her lips as he raised his hand to strike her again.

Before he could deliver the blow, however, she saw the anger fade from his eyes and be replaced by realisation of what he had done. His arm fell back down to his side and there was silence although Kathryn was sure that he could hear her heart as it was thumping so hard inside her chest. They were both breathing heavily and, in this moment of stillness, each observed the person before them. For Kathryn, she had never seen him this angry and, quite frankly, it scared her. Looking down he saw someone who was a fraction of the woman he knew. Before him, huddled as far as she could into the corner, clutching at her face he saw the complete and abject fear in her eyes as she looked at him. He had not seen such fear since the night he had first had her. His angry exterior melted away and he realised, far too late, what he had done. He opened his mouth to speak but, seeing her chance, and with speed he could have never imagined, she bolted for the door and streaked down the stairs.

Crashing into the kitchen she was instantly surrounded by the house elves asking what she needed. She mumbled 'ice' through her hand that was covering her tender cheek. She felt a rusty taste in her mouth as they placed several handfuls of ice into a napkin and realised that the force of the blow must have split her lip. Taking the makeshift ice pack she strode as quickly as she could through the Entrance Hall and spacious drawing room to the back terrace where she had once enjoyed dinner.

Leaning against the stone balustrade she touched the ice gingerly to her cheek; gasping slightly as its frigid contents met the heat of her cheek. Taking several deep breaths, she forced herself to keep it there despite the pain. For the first time since this all began she felt fear course like ice through her veins as she stood there and she knew that she could remain in this place no longer.

Upstairs, meanwhile, Lucius was still standing there. He couldn't begin to comprehend what he had done, what he had ruined and he felt completely disgusted with himself. He had never struck a woman before and he could not shake the image of Kathryn's face as she looked up at him. He could not remove the look of the terror in her eyes from his mind. He knew any repair had to be done fast if he was ever to see her again and he followed her downstairs; scouring the entire ground floor for her until he found her on the back terrace.

He saw her visibly tense as he appeared through the doors. He had not seen her react to him like that in a long while. Approaching slowly so as not to panic her, he reached out his hand to the soaked napkin that she was holding to her face. She jerked her hand away as soon as his fingertips brushed hers and left him to hold the ice. Removing it from the side of her face he first saw the watery red blood stain from her split lip. He thought that this was bad until he saw her cheek. His insides clenched as he saw the fast emerging purple bruise and, even worse, the mark in the middle of her cheek. Stepping closer he could see the vivid red imprint of a coiled snake; left by the heavy silver ring on his finger. He reached out his fingers to touch it but did not get close as she jumped about a foot away from him.

"Don't you dare touch me!" she said in a shallow, slightly panicked voice, clutching her hand to her cheek again. "Don't touch me." She repeated before sprinting past him back into the house. Running back upstairs she threw her things back into her bag and removed the lavish outfit that she had bought specially; pulling on her jeans and T-shirt. In the bathroom she hurriedly brushed on a layer of make up to disguise the bruise as best she could before arranging her hair so it carefully covered most of that side of her face. Her cut lip had ceased to bleed and she wiped away the traces of blood on her cheek with a wet flannel.

Grabbing her bag and slinging it over her shoulder she exited the bathroom just as he walked through the door.

"Stay." He pleaded, completely unsettled by the utter dread that he could see in her eyes. In response she shook her head and then, before he could say anymore, she disappeared with a small pop. He was left alone in the silent room with only his thoughts to torture him about what he had done. There was noting left to remind him of her in the room save the garment that she had left in a crumpled heap on the bathroom floor. Sitting down on the mattress he ran his hands over the soft material; remembering how she had felt in his arms. He caught a hint of her scent that still clung to the fabric and, overwhelmed by desolation, he buried his head in his hands; hoping desperately that he had not lost her forever.

* * *

A/N – The corset outfit is based on the one Nicole Kidman wears in the 'Spectacular Spectacular' bit of Moulin Rouge.


	23. Chapter 23

A/N – What Snape saw…and more importantly, what he thinks.

* * *

Back at Grimmauld Place, Snape was just finishing informing the members of the order of what Lucius Malfoy had told him.

"That's all there was." He finished off to the listening table. "Well, there was something else but I'm not sure that it is worth consideration."

"We might as well hear it." Lupin offered.

"Anything that could help bring down the slimy git." Sirius growled.

"Alright." Snape took a deep breath. "It seems that Lucius Malfoy has a new, er," he struggled to find the right word, "plaything." He gave a cruel smile to the assembled order members.

"How do you know?" Kingsley asked.

"Well, I didn't see much, but there was definitely someone else there this afternoon."

"What did you see?" Tonks asked curiously.

"A leg."

"A leg!" Sirius snorted. "Hardly enough to label a leg as his new toy."

"I saw enough to see that her outfit, whoever she was, left little to the imagination." A collective shudder went round the group at the thought of anyone who would want to spend time with a Death Eater. "I saw her face too."

"And?" Lupin pressed him to continue.

"I couldn't see much. She had long dark hair, but she was partly in shadow so that could have been the light, and she looked," he wasn't sure how to phrase this, "well bred I suppose; quite polished features, high cheekbones." He explained. "I suppose that she is how most Purebloods, especially those like Lucius Malfoy, like their women; tall, slender, very beautiful and, of course, Pureblood. You could say," he looked straight at Harry, "that they are almost like your sister except that they are bred for that sole purpose." Hermione gave a small gasp.

"That's horrible."

"It has been that way for a very long time," Snape shrugged, "generations of young women were born and bred to be beautiful and catch the most eligible man they could. They are also very well trained in sniffing out money and they are largely unattainable save for those with preposterously large Gringotts vaults."

"And what is your personal opinion." Arthur Weasley asked from the end of the table.

"About whom? Malfoy or this mystery woman?"

"About the mystery woman, although your opinion of Malfoy would be interesting to hear."

"I'll start with Malfoy first then." Snape paused, as if unsure where to start. "I have known him since I was in school and he was one of the main persuasive forces that made me join the Death Eaters. In terms of his eligibility, well, he had women practically queuing up to marry him. He could very well have been a playboy and chosen to have as many women as he could, but he only had eyes for Narcissa."

"Why?"

"She was the best. Descended from a very wealthy, very influential, very pure line; in effect, he married her because he considered her his equal." Snape explained. "True, they grew distant over the years but they still kept up the front of the happy, perfect Pureblood family for the sake of their public image. Narcissa was very much attached to him but he rarely gave very overt displays of affection in public. He was very aware of things that people could exploit against him."

"Anything else?"

"They always presented a united front; Narcissa always firmly behind her husband but never getting involved in the politics. She was, in a sense, the perfect Pureblood wife."

"What about after her death?" Lupin asked curiously. "How did that affect him?"

"He was quite shocked," Snape explained patiently, "shocked that this constant in his life was gone I think, but there was no massive outpouring of grief. Of course, since then, he has had an array of young beautiful women vying for his attentions but he hasn't really paid them any mind." Snape, like everyone else in the room, found this hard to accept as fact. "I know that such a thing is hard to believe, but I don't think he is at all interested in them. It is almost as if he wants something more than a pretty face. I think that any woman that attracts his attention now will have to be intelligent; in a sense have something more than other women that throw themselves at him."

"Or it is maybe that he already has someone." Sirius added.

"Yes. Regarding to his eligibility now, well, it is the same as ever; Death Eater or not. He is, at last count, the wealthiest private landowner in wizarding Britain. There are others, tradesmen for example, who have fortunes but there are none comparable to his. It is all old money, accumulated over the generations and it continues to climb due to careful investment. Of course, that sum does not include the value of his Wiltshire manor and grounds. He is the prize of prizes for any Pureblood woman who is looking to make a good match and secure her future."

"What about the woman then?"

"Well there are three options aren't there." Snape told them as if it was plainly obvious. "This woman, whoever she is, is either genuinely attracted to him, in it for the money or," he took small satisfaction at the looks on their faces, they were hanging on his every word, "or he is paying her."

"Disgusting." Molly Weasley muttered under her breath.

"We do not know for sure." Snape continued. "All we know is that she is either a kept mistress, some pureblood who would rather remain anonymous or a whore." His face contorted into a vicious smirk. "Of course, any respectable Pureblood girl would not keep her relationship with Lucius Malfoy a secret; he is too much of a catch for that sort of behaviour. As for her being a mistress, well, it is true that there was little love lost between Lucius and Narcissa but he still saw fit to, ahem, entertain her," his smirk widened at the thought, "and I believe that, somewhere within him, he did feel something for her."

"So, what?" Sirius asked impatiently. "Do you think that she is his mistress then?"

"No." Snape answered rather definitely. "In all the years I have known the man; I have never seen or heard anything of a mistress. I believe that there would have been some evidence of her presence before his wife's death and not five months after said event."

"But, would Lucius Malfoy really pay someone?" Hermione asked of her professor, raising a quizzical eyebrow as she did so. Snape bit back a snappish remark as she continued. "I mean, really, think of what it could do to his reputation if it was exposed. I don't think he is a man to take that kind of a risk."

"There are many women, Miss Granger, who are prepared to do anything as long as the price is right. Men only have to look hard enough to find them." Snape spoke to her as if he were addressing a child. "And of course, men of Lucius Malfoy's station will pay dearly for pleasurable company." Mrs Weasley sniffed her disapproval again before Snape continued. "I don't know why that should shock you. For years prostitutes and other ladies of such repute have been invaluable to most Pureblood men of Lucius Malfoy's wealth."

"Only because of what they, well, prostitute." Hermione shot back.

"Oh no." Snape shook his head with a knowing smile. "They give the men what they want for sure, but there is more. That single, or multiple, payment for her services also removes the opportunity for her to lay claim to any of his fortune. Whores are used by men who wish to keep their riches well guarded."

"Do you think she's a prostitute?" Molly asked rather abruptly.

"I doubt it; I think Lucius would consider it beneath him to pay for something he can probably easily get. He has always wanted the best and, as far as I know, he has always had the best. He generally wants what he can't have too," Snape explained, "so it is possible that he concealed her because any relationship between them would otherwise be forbidden."

They did not explore this topic further as they heard the sound of someone coming through the front door. The door slammed and, inevitably, woke the portrait of Mrs Black. Her screeches filled the hallway as they rushed to see who it was. They emerged from the basement kitchen only to see Kathryn dashing up the stairs apparently clutching one side of her face.

She ignored Harry, Ron and Hermione's calls as she pelted up to her room and locked the doors securely behind her. Once in her bathroom she scrubbed the make up quickly off her face, flinching as she put pressure on her cheek. Her whole cheek was a deep shade of purple, the outline of the coiled serpent from his ring darker than the rest. Aiming her wand at her face she managed to remove most of the bruise, letting out a sigh of relief as the serpent disappeared entirely. All that was left was a tint of purple that would disappear in a few hours. She then set to work on her lip; mending it in a trice and leaving no evidence that it had ever been there.

She had just stepped out into her room when the three of them burst through her door.

"What was that all about?" Hermione asked, letting out a small yelp, however, when she saw Kathryn's cheek. "What happened?" she immediately rushed to Kathryn's side to examine the damage to her cheek.

"Oh nothing, I just walked into a door that's all." She laughed it off as a simple mistake. "I've fixed it so I should be fine."

"See, not looking where you're going again!" Ron shook his head in amusement.

"I thought you were going to stay in France for a while?" Harry asked, settling himself on a sofa.

"Couldn't be bothered. Most of my friends are staying in school for the holidays." She shrugged her shoulders. "Besides, I'd rather be here to listen to the Quidditch World Cup with you."

"It's a shame we couldn't get tickets this time." Ron shrugged. "It was OK last time because England was hosting it and dad knew Bagman."

"Where's it being held this year?" Hermione asked from her armchair.

"Australia." Harry replied, sprawling onto the same sofa as Ron.

"They're in the final too." Kathryn added. "They were really good when I saw them last year. I mean, they lost to England, but they were good all the same."

"I don't fancy Sweden's chances." Harry shook his head. "They were lucky with their other matches, the teams they played were pretty rubbish, but Australia has a far better line up."

"Well, at least you got to see the last one. I was going to go but Dumbledore said I couldn't because he didn't want me to run into you." Kathryn sounded thoroughly depressed by this.

"You'll get your chance no doubt." Ron said, trying to make her feel better. "Who knows, you might even be playing for England by the time the next one comes around." He was partially right; their week of training with the under-18 squad had been a sort of test for them to see if they had the stuff to be candidates for representing their country.

"I suppose so, but we'll just have to content ourselves with the radio for now." She sighed; looking whimsically out the window.

They also told her about what Snape had seen on his visit to the Malfoy Manor.

"Well bred was, I believe, the phrase he used," Hermione quoted, "polished features," she went on, "he was talking of her as if she is some kind of specimen of a rare animal."

"You forget that breeding, as it were, is of utmost importance to Pureblood families like the Malfoys." Ron reminded her in a voice that did not sound like his own. "They take nothing but the best."

"She, whoever she is, has more dignity than that; even if she is bending to the whims of Lucius Malfoy." Hermione snapped back.

"Well, if he has something new to play with then maybe he'll leave me alone." She said hopefully.

"I don't know how anyone can want to voluntarily be near that foul man, I mean, knowing what he's done…" Hermione said in a disgusted voice.

"Maybe she has her reasons." That was all Kathryn could come up with.


	24. Chapter 24

Disclaimer - Not mine...but enjoy all the same.

A/N - The fallout...

* * *

Her bruise had completely disappeared by Monday morning and so had the pain

Her bruise had completely disappeared by Monday morning and so had the pain. She had spent Saturday night tossing and turning in bed, unable to sleep due to the throbbing pain that remained in her cheek despite the bruise having gone and a raging headache. To own the truth, she was quite surprised not to have suffered a concussion from the blow. She had also had to put up with a pair of very sore wrists from her falling to the floor. Sitting at the breakfast table, however, she bore no resemblance to the terrified girl who had been cowering on the floor two days ago. They were all tucking into a large breakfast of bacon, beans, eggs, sausages, toast, hash browns and orange juice when the morning post arrived. Kathryn didn't expect anything.

She, Harry, Ron and Hermione didn't get much post when they were at Grimmauld Place as no one knew where they were and only their owls could find them. Kathryn was surprised, then, by Lana's arrival on her shoulder bearing an official looking envelope in her beak. She took a moment to examine it, feeding Lana scraps of bacon as she did so, before the others noticed that she had received some post. It looked like the envelope she had received from the Ministry inviting her to Fudge's Christmas reception. Turning it over, she could see that the purple Ministry seal had been broken and then resealed with the green Malfoy seal. Her stomach clenched unpleasantly as she saw the coiled snake twisting round the letter 'M', it was the same shape as the imprint left on her cheek by his ring.

"What have you got there dear?" Mrs Weasley asked as she doled out more bacon.

"I don't know." She ran her fingers over the seal, a shiver rising up her spine as she saw the anger in his eyes, the hand slamming down onto her face.

"Open it then." Ron urged her through a mouthful of sausage.

She broke the seal, making sure that she tore off the wax and tossed it in the fire before anyone could see whom it was from. Everyone seemed to be looking at her as she opened the flap and drew out a piece of thick parchment that resembled a ticket; blue and silver writing across the top spelled out the words 'QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP FINAL'. Beneath this she was given the location of her seats, the time and the location of the stadium; all in the same black writing.

"Wow!" Ron exclaimed; spraying toast crumbs on his jumper as he did so. "Who sent you that?"

"The Ministry I suppose." She shrugged, pulling out a note that was with the ticket. It was a brief few sentences requesting her presence as one of Minister Fudge's guests at the match.

"You're in the top box too!" more toast crumbs.

"Is there any note?" Mrs Weasley asked, adding another salver of sausages to the table as Bill and Charlie walked in. "Ron! Swallow before you speak!"

"I'll check." Returning to the envelope she pulled out a smaller piece of parchment bearing the details of available Portkeys. The card quivered slightly in her hand as she read it.

"You really must be in Fudge's good books if he's inviting you as his guest." Harry said; inspecting the ticket and note that Ron was now showing him. Kathryn stood up and replaced the ticket in the envelope.

"I'll have to go and pack," she said, banishing her dirty dishes to the sink, "most of the Portkeys leave today even though the match is on Thursday. I suppose it's to allow for the time difference."

"All right dear. Be sure to pack plenty of clothes as it will be very hot." Mrs Weasley reminded her with a smile as she headed back upstairs.

"It's not fair." Ron grumbled as she disappeared. "How come Fudge gives her all the attention?"

"Ronald Weasley!" his mother said in an angry tone. "You got to go the last time; it's only fair that she have the same opportunity." She chided him as he tucked into his bacon.

Upstairs in her room, Kathryn had locked her door and was holding the quivering card in her hand. She touched the tip of her wand to the parchment.

"Reveal your secret." She spoke. Something slowly appeared on the back of the card. She recognised the elegant black handwriting immediately and it sent another shiver running down her spine. It was only one word - 'please'. Her stomach went cold as she sat on the end of her bed and pondered the merits of what she could do. On the one hand she could just take a normal Portkey out to Australia and do her best to ignore him. On the other, however, she could make the trip out to Wiltshire as he would expect her to and adopt what, in his mind, had become her 'rightful' place at his side despite the fear this caused inside of her.

Deciding quickly, so as not to change her mind, she flung open her wardrobe and drawers and pulled some choice items into a bag before heading back downstairs to say goodbye.

"I'll probably be back on either Friday or Saturday, depending on how long the match lasts and the time difference!" she laughed, giving them all a farewell hug before apparating to what they thought was a Portkey location.

Instead she stood outside the imposing double doors that were the entrance to the Malfoy Manor. She rapped sharply on the wood three times and waited for it to be opened. To her surprise, it was his face she saw as it swung inwards and not one of his many house elves. He looked truly stunned to see her standing there. He also looked quite strained, as if he had spent the past few days without proper sleep.

"Hello." She said coolly as he stepped aside to let her in.

"I didn't think you'd come." He reached his arm out to embrace her.

"I didn't say you could touch me." Her voice was cold beyond measure and it wounded him inside to hear her speak like that, knowing that he was the reason. "I have some homework to do so I would appreciate it if I was not disturbed." She continued in the same harsh tone.

"Certainly." He forced himself to reply. "Feel free to use the library." She nodded in response and began to climb the stairs without another word. Looking back at her as she walked purposefully up the stairs; he felt a rush of disappointment course through him. She didn't take much time on her appearance anyway, not really needing to, but still always looked beautiful. It was quite a difference to see her here, dressed in what appeared to be her oldest, most ragged clothes and with her hair scraped back into an untidy bun. At the nape of her neck, however, a navy blue satin bow peeked out from beneath the faded cotton of her t-shirt and he could not help wondering what it belonged to. After ordering the house elves to grant her whatever she asked, he too stalked upstairs and shut himself in his study with only his melancholy thoughts for company.

Kathryn stayed in the library all day; poring over ancient tomes on transfiguration and potions for their holiday essays for Snape and McGonagall. A house elf appeared at noon with a light lunch of sandwiches and grapefruit juice.

At seven that evening another house elf appeared and timidly approached her.

"The Master requests that you join him for dinner." He said in a high pitched, squeaky voice. He looked terrified that she might punish him, the same look that Harry had described when he had seen Dobby with his Master.

"Tell him I shall be down momentarily." She said in a cool voice, shutting the book she had been reading. "Thank you." He looked shocked by the words of thanks and quickly disappeared out the door. She made no effort in her appearance, not wanting him to think that she was in any way dressing for him. She did not remove her baggy, worn jeans that he had once so greedily pulled from her legs. Nor did she remove her plain top with the ragged collar, sleeves and hem where she had purposely removed the straight hemlines for a rougher look. She deliberately left her hair in the loose bun she had tied it into, as she knew it would vex him; he had told her on various occasions that he loved her hair when she wore it down.

She could see the disappointment in his face as she entered and sat down. To him she looked simply scruffy and, although he still found her beautiful despite this, he much preferred the elegant, happy woman that he knew she could be. The only consolation was that the plain top she was wearing was quite tight and showed off her delicate curves quite nicely. She did not say a word as she sat down; sitting stiffly as if in a very uncomfortable chair and remaining completely unsmiling. She remained this way all the way through dinner, giving no sign that she even knew he was there or that she was enjoying the lavish meal he had ordered prepared. He could stand her silence no longer and, once they had finished their main course, he rose abruptly and stalked out of the room without a word. She flinched slightly as she heard a door bang off a wall as it was flung open. Not swayed, however, she stayed seated and finished her dessert, deciding it would be rude not to finish the food that had been prepared.

After sitting for a long while contemplating whether she could stand punishing him like this, she rose and headed for the stairs. Peering through the door into his room, flung open in what she presumed to be anger, she saw him and she felt pity well up inside of her. He was standing barefoot by the windows; one hand on either side of the glass, his head bowed in desolation. Kicking off the cheap black flip flops she was wearing, she tiptoed silently over to the windows and stood behind him; waiting until he noticed her presence.

As he stood there, he noticed a reflection in the glass and he turned slowly to face her. He had not expected her to follow him, let alone stand in such close proximity after what he had done. For a few moments he gazed in wonder at the girl before him. Her green eyes, bordered by long black lashes, were open wide and gazed back at him with an expression of innocence; despite the fact that he had long since stolen that from her. He did not move, waiting to see what she would do.

She moved tentatively closer, taking in every subtly nuance of his face and body as he stood before her. She was reminded of the time after the death of his wife and the invisible block that had come between them. Reaching out her hands, she laid them flat on his chest as she stepped even closer; running her hands over the soft material of his jacket. Slowly she moved them up to his shoulder and neck where they explored freely; tracing the line of his jaw and eyes. Her touch set his skin on fire and the desire to hold her became even stronger within him. Her arms moved further to wrap themselves around his neck and her hands teased through the blond strands of his hair.

He still did not move as her face nuzzled his neck, not wanting to startle her and cause her to flee again. She meanwhile inhaled his unique, rich scent that had so many times set her senses on fire. It did not fail to do so this time and she could resist the temptation no longer; kissing first the hollow at the base of his throat, causing him to gasp slightly, before working her way upwards. Turning her attention to his face she kissed both of his cheeks in turn, reacquainting herself with the feel of his skin beneath her lips. At the same time her arms moved; slipping his jacket off his shoulders and allowing it to pool on the floor before expertly undoing the buttons on his shirt and slipping beneath the soft fabric to run across his lean torso. She traced patterns on his back with her fingertip whilst one hand returned to his shoulder.

She fixed her green stare into his pale grey eyes for several moments. Within them she saw his pain at her rejection and the surprise at her affection. In hers he could see the fear and pain that he had caused only a few days ago in this exact same room. He also saw something else; something that he could only interpret as forgiveness. This contact was broken; however, as her lids fell and she touched her pale pink lips to his. He was at first too stunned to respond despite his instincts telling him that it was now time to offer a response. She pulled away quickly when he did not react, her eyes filling with dismay. Nevertheless, she did not lose her resolve, and; when she moved to kiss him for a second time, he was ready for her.

It was a healing kiss, bridging the gap he had created when he had struck her. Her mouth tasted faintly of strawberries and chocolate; reminding him of his abandoned dessert. The hand that had been tracing patterns on his back had stopped, everything else forgotten as he took his turn to familiarise himself with her once more. He did not break the contact with her lips as he moved his arms around her back to pull her closer. She in turn wrapped her arms up his back and held on tightly as they broke the contact and simply embraced each other, her head resting on his shoulder as he released the waves of her hair and stroked his hand over them. Tilting her face up to him he too traced the line of her jaw with his thumb, running it down the elegant curve of her neck and across her collarbone; earning a pleasant shudder as he traced his lips across it moments later.

"I'm so sorry." He whispered between kisses, hugging her tightly to him.

He was working hard to contain his impatience and his fingers couldn't help toying with the frayed hem at the bottom of her top.

"If you want." She whispered in his ear; reading his thoughts exactly. She felt his lips curve into a smile against her skin and, moments later, there was a small tug and a ripping sound as he tore open the front of her top and slid it off her shoulders. He paused for a moment to consider what she was wearing underneath. The navy bow he had seen belonged to her underwear; one ribbon tied at her neck and one at her back. Attached to these were two triangles of exotically woven lace, and were exhilaratingly, deliciously see through.

"And I was under the impression that you were planning for this not to happen."

"It doesn't hurt to be prepared." She said with a cheeky grin before pulling him back towards her lips. He may have resumed kissing her, but his hands continued to rove around; unzipping her jeans and pushing the loose denim off her hips where he found knickers made from matching navy silk and lace, these with ribbons in bows at either side. Kneeling before her, he ran his hands down the gentle curve of her sides as his lips caressed the soft skin of her belly; giving her the impression of him almost worshipping her, but making her giggle slightly as his hair tickled her.

Wrapping his arms around her waist once again, he lifted her off the ground and carried her the few feet towards the large four-poster bed that was, without a doubt, the main feature of the room.

Pulling back the covers he laid her gently down sliding down next to her; returning to the arms that reached out to him. He pulled her now semi-nude form towards him once more; crooking his leg over her thigh so she was absolutely aware of what he wanted as his hands slid lower and lower on her back.

From that moment on she was lost in a whirl of ecstasy as he tenderly, but hurriedly, removed the last items of their clothing and dropped them on the floor. She arched into him as he settled on top of her, clinging onto his shoulders as he loved her gently; making up for the previous pain he had caused.

Much later, once all their energy was spent and they lay exhausted in each others' arms, Kathryn smiled to herself; very much glad that she had decided to come here instead. Lucius, who had been gazing down at her with half-open eyes, whispered in her ear.

"Sleep." He murmured, stroking his hands through her hair that pooled on the pillow. "You wouldn't want to look suspiciously sleep deprived now, would you?" he touched his lips to one of her eyelids as it fluttered open to peek at him. Smiling, she did as he said and snuggled closer into the curve of his arm; resting one hand on his chest and her head on his shoulder. Even later, once the sylph of a girl in his arms had fallen into a deep slumber, he took the hand that lay, balled into a fist, into one of his own. He ran his fingers over the smooth skin and elegant digits; remembering the way they felt against his face and how they had the power to set his skin aflame. Laying it back down he smiled contentedly; confident that he had provided sufficient an apology, and allowed himself to drift off to sleep.

She did not, however, drift into a comfortable sleep. Instead she saw the familiar flash of green light and heard the high pitched laughter. Except that this dream was permeated by new things; his face, her friends' disappointed faces, Harry shouting as she stood between the two groups, Voldemort with Nagini draped over his shoulders, Dumbledore looking supremely sad, the black, burning Dark Mark on her arm, her scar searing with pain. Except the pain was real.

Beside her, he had woken up thanks to her sudden exit from his arms and, with one look, knew instantly that something was wrong. She was writhing round on the mattress, clutching her forehead as if it was under immeasurable pain. Her breathing was ragged and erratic. Unsure of what to do he simply held her and stroked his hand down her back in an effort to soothe her. Eventually, she stilled and her breathing calmed.

"Bad dreams?" he murmured softly in her ear.

"He's angry." She said quietly, rubbing her forehead. "Very angry indeed." Lucius understood implicitly that 'he' meant the Dark Lord. Sitting up groggily, she checked her arm for any sign of the Dark Mark. She relaxed slightly when she saw that there was none; trying to ignore the residual prickling in her scar.

"Bad dreams too." She added, leaning against him, unable to shake the image of Harry's angry face from her mind. She hoped dearly that this was not going to be one of the dreams they shared.

"I know a remedy for that." He whispered, drawing her back down beside him and meeting her lips; his hands holding her close to his warm body as he rolled carefully on top of her for the second time that night, or the first time that day, she thought to herself as she held onto his shoulders and her body involuntarily arched into him once more.


	25. Chapter 25

Disclaimer - J.K. Rowling, we salute you...

A/N - An acceptable past-time in the land Down Under...

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She woke the next day feeling considerably better than she had the previous morning; any feelings of mistrust or fear having been banished the night before. They could not languish in bed all day as they had previously done, however, as they only had an hour or so to get ready to take their Portkey to Australia for the match. She descended the steps into the Entrance Hall at exactly five minutes to ten. He found himself again captivated by the beauty she seemed to exude no matter what she wore. Dressed in a pair of figure hugging jeans, silver heels and a thin, short sleeved grey jumper with a slash-neck that showed off her shoulders, she looked irresistible and, if he dared think it, the perfect wife.

"Beautiful." He commented as she came to stand beside him. "Although a little too innocent for me." He finished with a mischievous smile as he wrapped his arm round her waist.

"Don't worry," she reassured him with the same mischievous look, "I've got a wardrobe especially for you." She added in a whispered undertone.

"Excellent. Shall we?" he offered her a chipped teapot. Any Muggle would have found theme supremely odd; standing in such an opulent place clutching a dirty, chipped teapot as if it was something important. They, however, knew better and, seconds later, a cool voice announced 'nine fifty nine am Portkey to Australia' and they felt the familiar tug behind their navels and they lurched forwards in a whirl of colour.

Their arrival at the other end was considerably less dignified and he actually had to catch her as her knees buckled as they hit the floor. She decided that, in the future, she wasn't going to travel by Portkey when wearing heels.

"Where are we?" she asked as she struggled to see in the dark. It was ten in the evening now, twelve hours ahead of England.

"Where we're saying, look." He said, pointing out a small lit pathway through what appeared to be palm trees. In the distance she was sure she could hear the sounds of waves breaking on sand. She could do nothing to ignore the building excitement inside her as he led her by the hand through the trees towards a large, softly lit villa.

"Wow." She breathed as she gazed up at the large building. Leading her up the steps, they were met by a house elf that took their bags and showed them around the villa whilst informing them that he was their cook and cleaner for the duration of their stay. Kathryn stepped in first to say thank you before he could sneer and kick it across the room. The house elf bowed low and disappeared with a crack as she informed him that they had eaten and his services were no longer needed.

"I do not care how you treat your elves at home," She told him in a stern voice, "but be sure you treat this one with as much respect as you can manage, after all, you don't own him." She warned with a wag of her finger.

"Certainly Madam." He replied sarcastically, giving her a mock bow as he did so. She laughed as she looked at him standing in the doorway and, within moments, he had crossed the room to her and swept her up in his arms. He lifted her up off her feet and spun her round as her arms clung onto his neck. He realised how much he loved the sound of her laughter as he spun her round.

"Stop!" she cried out. "You're going to make me dizzy and then how am I to stand in these shoes?" he set her down and lowered his lips to hers, holding her face in his hands as he did so. He carefully hid his disappointment as she pulled away and went off to explore the rest of the villa he had rented for their stay. He found her a few minutes later on the balcony that jutted out over the sea, looking at the bottle of very expensive champagne that was waiting in an ice bucket for them and a silver bowl of strawberries that was next to it.

"Not bad." She commented, pouring it into two crystal flutes and taking a sip of hers. "Obviously not skimping on the luxuries are you?" she smiled over her glass at him, taking a bite of a strawberry.

"Do I ever?" he asked, taking his glass and leaning on the edge of the balcony next to her.

"True." She moved closer and rested her head on his shoulder as she gazed out onto the black ocean; listening to the sounds of the local wildlife as they went about their nightly activities. With a leisurely flick of his wand, the Wizard wireless in the lounge area flicked on and the soft tones of an unknown artist drifted out into the night. Taking her glass and placing it on the railing, he positioned one hand on the small of her back and pulled her close. With the other her hand he took hers and, ever so slightly, began to move to the music. She allowed her head to once again rest on his shoulder as they danced slowly in the dim light.

Despite the fact that they had only risen a matter of hours ago they retired to the master suite after only a few hours. Like everything in the villa, the furniture was decorated with contrasting sets of light and dark colours. In this case, the king size four poster bed was simply carved from the native Red Gum tree and had the appearance of just growing out of the floor. The wood was, therefore, a beautiful shade of red and this was contrasted with pale cream linens', pillows and hung with pale cream gossamer curtains to keep it cool in the heat. It was a stark difference to the ornately carved, grand four poster that she had slept in the previous night. She didn't really care, however, as she lay in his arms and drifted off to sleep; somehow unreasonably tired considering how long she had been awake.

It was only the next morning that she was fully able to appreciate the beauty of her surroundings. Walking out to the balcony in her small nightdress she found that, instead of being a few metres away, their balcony actually jutted out over the sea itself. They seemed to be situated on a promontory that jutted out into the crystal clear ocean. A cove with pristine white sands went off to their left whilst to their right there were only trees that bordered the rocky shoreline. It was then that she gave in to the temptation of the crystalline water.

He woke the next morning to find her gone, only the crushed bed sheets and the dint in the pillow to suggest that she had been there. He showered and dressed before setting out in search of her. She was nowhere in the villa and their house elf informed him that she had gone out over an hour ago. Standing on the balcony with a cup of coffee, something caught his eye in the crystal clear ocean. It looked like a large fish swimming below the surface; at least, that was until it broke the surface and a familiar head appeared. Shaking her sopping hair out of her eyes, she fell back and floated on the surface of the water. He could see the many brightly coloured fish that swam about her, occasionally weaving in and out of her hair. Abruptly she turned over and dived beneath the waves once more, her arms spreading out and pulling her in the direction of the balcony. She only rose for air once as she swam over, moving with the grace and speed of a practiced swimmer that could make their air last for a long time.

She stayed beneath the surf until she was directly beneath where he was standing on the balcony; able to do this due to the way their balcony jutted out over the water.

"Morning!" she said brightly, wiping the water off her face and scraping her hair out of her eyes.

"Taking full advantage of the facilities I see." He commented, looking down at her in her skimpy black bikini, unable to suppress a smile.

"I'd be a fool not to." She stood, water dripping off her, and climbed onto the pontoon and then up the stairs at the side of the deck. In his usual gentlemanly manner; he wrapped a towel around her shoulders and pulled her to him, apparently not caring if he got wet.

"So," she turned her head towards him, "anything special planned for today."

"No, why?" he asked her intrigued.

"Well, it's just that we've got this beach that is just perfect for surfing." She spread the towel on one of the wooden sun loungers' and lay down.

"Excuse me?" he wore a puzzled look on his face as if he had no clue what she was talking about.

"Oh, I forgot; you and your Muggle hatred. Surfing," she began, "is a Muggle sport that's really quite fun. Australian wizards do practice it though, it's quite addictive."

"What exactly does it involve?" he asked apprehensively.

"Oh, I'll show you later." She sipped her coffee, giving him a mysterious smile.

Later that morning, after pulling on some clothes and swinging a bag over her shoulder, she disappeared out the front door and walked down into the nearby Muggle town. It was busy with the usual crowd of shoppers and surfers. Nipping into a fairly unobtrusive little shop that she knew by reputation only, she found exactly what she was looking for. She was surrounded by racks of what had to be the best surfboards she had ever seen. Within five minutes she was talking animatedly to the owner who was able to tell exactly what kind of board she needed by just looking at her build. Within an hour she was walking out the shop with a stylish, black board underneath her arm. They had even sprayed on her own custom design at no extra cost; a stylised version of the Gryffindor lion in reds and gold. In the other hand she had a bag containing its special protective case and a bar of surf wax.

He looked exceedingly puzzled as she stepped into the lounge.

"What," he pointed to the board under her arm, "is that?"

"That is a surfboard." She told him matter-of-factly, dumping her bags on the sofa and leaning the board against the nearest wall. "Now hold on a minute." She disappeared into the bedroom to get changed; reappearing minutes later in her black bikini.

"What exactly is the point of this?" he asked incredulously.

"You'll see, come on." She tucked the board back underneath her arm and grabbed the bar of wax. Curious, he followed her out of the side door and down the path that led to their private beach. The white sand was hot beneath her feet as she walked towards the waters edge and stuck the board into it.

"Now what?" he asked in the same apprehensive tone. "Do you bewitch it or something?"

"No. Surfing just needs skill and practice; kind of like Quidditch. You just need to stay on." She explained, rubbing some of the wax onto the surface of the board. "We're still getting good waves," she pointed out the large breakers in the cove, "just watch." She pulled her board out of the sand and waded into the surf. Once she was waist deep, she pulled herself onto the board and started to paddle out. She stopped where the waves were at their largest and turned around to face the shore. She was concentrating very hard, having not done this for a while, and continually checked behind her for the big waves.

From the beach he watched as she started to paddle forwards as a huge breaker reared up behind her. He reached for his wand in an instant; she wasn't going to make it, he thought, the wave was going to come crashing down on top of her and she would most certainly drown. He paused, however, when he saw what she did next. Once she was travelling very fast, he saw her raise herself up and place her feet on the board. Out in the ocean, Kathryn felt the familiar exhilaration as she rode the wave, twisting the board like it was attached to her feet and hurtling down the tunnel created by the wave; her fingers running through the wall of water as she went. Back on the beach, he watched in amazement as her silhouette moved through the tunnel of water and emerged at the end. She did not stop there, however, staying on the board and riding the crest of that wave all the way to the shallows.

"That," she said triumphantly, "that is surfing!" she splashed towards him, dragging her board behind her.

"Interesting," he conceded, "pretty amazing actually." He smiled, unable to disguise his astonishment.

"I'm going again." she turned and ran back into the water and paddled out again. She skimmed across the peak of this wave, zigzagging down it in the way skiers did on the alpine slopes. He stood and watched her for some time, marvelling at the way she gracefully moved; turning the board to her will and gliding across the surface of the waves. Laughing as she wiped out and crashed into the crystalline water; every time surfacing and starting again. He retreated back to the villa once he could no longer ignore the pangs of hunger in his stomach but she stayed out until late afternoon. He watched her from the veranda until she lifted the board beneath her arm once more and began to slowly walk back to the villa. Instead of taking the path, however, she waked through the shallows towards the balcony and climbed up onto the pontoon; leaving her board to dry off there before climbing up onto the deck.

"That," she sighed, flopping down onto a sun lounger, "was great."

"Drink?" he asked.

"Lemonade would be wonderful." He waved his wand and a pitcher appeared along with a glass full of ice. "Thanks." She took a long drink, relishing the cold liquid as it flowed down her throat. He took this moment to study her; something he liked to do. She was positively glowing; beads of water clinging to her skin that had slightly darkened in the sun, her eyes glistening like a pair of jewels.

"Dinner will be ready soon." He told her. "If you're hungry."

"Starving, I forgot about lunch." She smiled sheepishly and took another drink.

"Obviously."

"I'm knackered too." She stood and walked over to him, sliding down onto the lounger next to him and resting her head on his shoulder. He coiled his arm around her waist as she lay there, just resting, but making his heart flutter in an unexpected way. He would never have expected her to come so close so willingly when everything first began. He pushed these thoughts from his mind as his fingers stroked through her wet hair and her hands toyed with the buttons of his jacket; tracing the engraved design on them with her nail.

After only about half an hour, their sphere of tranquillity was broken by the arrival of the house elf to inform them that dinner was ready. Kathryn slipped into the bedroom to pull on something a little more substantial than her black two-piece; returning in a skirt short enough to be teasing, but long enough not to be sluttish, and a gauzy top that he could still see her bikini top through. They spent dinner discussing the forthcoming match; arguing over the merits of both teams and which was likely to be the eventual victor.

They retreated to the now candle-lit balcony with their wine once the meal was finished. She leant against the balcony and looked out to the horizon where the sun had almost disappeared below the sea. He stood beside her, savouring every brush of his skin against hers as she sipped her wine.

Once she had drained the remnants of the deep red liquid from her glass, she set it down on the table before turning back to the balcony. She placed her bare feet onto smooth wooden bars of the balustrade and, in one smooth movement, had hoisted herself up so that she was sitting on the top rail with her back to the ocean. He moved out of the way as she slid along to sit in front of him before moving back towards her and resting his glass on her knee. She shuddered as the cool glass touched her skin and he smiled at the innocence of her reaction. Her change of clothes had still left her with much skin exposed and he capitalised on this, the fingers of his free hand running down the smooth skin of her leg. He too drained the last of his wine and threw the glass onto the soft cushions of one of the loungers. Turning back to her, he moved closer and traced his other hand down her leg. He gave a roguish smirk before he moved both his hands further up and beneath the fabric of her skirt.

"Greedy." She whispered in his ear as she coiled her arms around his neck. She kissed him hungrily, his mouth tasting fruity from the wine.

"Speak for yourself." He whispered back, kissing her neck and feeling her racing heartbeat beneath her skin. His hands shifted position and began to work their way across her back until they reached the strings that held her bikini top in place. With one sharp tug the strings around her back loosened. With another, the threads around her neck fell free. She felt his hands pull the top free of her neck and heard the faint splash as it fell off the balustrade and into the water below them. She slid gently down from the rail and stood before him, looking into his once cold grey eyes now alight. His fingers traced the area where his ring had left its mark only four days ago.

"I'm so sorry." He whispered. Kathryn could not believe it; Lucius Malfoy was actually apologising for something he'd done.

"It's past, there's nothing you can do about it now." She reassured him, kissing his cheek. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, moved by his heartfelt apology.

She allowed him to scoop her up into his arms and carry her back into the villa where he lay next to her on the bed; attempting to further heal the wounds he had caused. She responded with a tenderness she would have never thought this man deserved. Deep down inside of her, buried beneath her emotions and bravado, she didn't regret what had happened almost two years ago. No doubt it had been painful and humiliating at first, but then; then it had changed, much to the surprise of both of them. She hadn't been looking for what she found that night, but she found him all the same, and she now seemed bound to find happiness in being around him. She didn't know how she would be able to explain it when she would ultimately have to. These unpleasant thoughts were wiped from her mind, however, as he shifted pace and his kisses became more intense and desperate.


	26. Chapter 26

Disclaimer - I think you've figured it out now...

A/N - The Australian adventure continues...technically this was meant to be one chapter from the return to the Manor to leaving Australia but in the end I came to the conclusion that it was going to be a bit difficult to wade through in one go - hence it becoming a couple of easy to manage chapters! Hope you enjoy this one, please leave a review!

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She woke very early on the morning of the match, despite only having finally drifted off to sleep at about three that morning

She woke very early on the morning of the match, despite only having finally drifted off to sleep at about three that morning. Her whole body seemed to quiver with excitement as she lay awake.

"It's not for ages yet, go back to sleep." He murmured sleepily in her ear, pulling her closer to him as he did so.

"It's so exciting though." She whispered back, twisting to lie on her front and turning her face to look at him.

"It won't be exciting if you are too tired to watch." He said dryly, closing his eyes and running his hand across the soft skin of her back.

"You forget that it's you who make me tired." She gave him a coy smile, gathering a sheet about her and setting her feet on the dark wood floor. "The match starts at three so we've only got six hours to get ready, less if you count travelling and the time to get in before the match starts."

"Six hours is plenty of time." He told her sternly, pulling her back down as she tried to get up. "It doesn't take you that long to get dressed."

"But I'm awake!" she protested, trying to wriggle free.

"There are better things." He smirked, spooning himself up behind her.

"Well, maybe." She relented, a contented sigh escaping her lips.

"Only maybe?" he asked, strategically moving his hands.

"No," she purred, "This is definitely better."

Once it got to midday she decided that it was really time to get out of bed. Disentangling herself from his arms, she slipped out from beneath the sheets and, seconds later, he heard the jet of a shower against tiles. He groaned; pulling the bedcovers up over his head like a child would. He didn't want to go; he wanted to stay here with her all day. He didn't want to go somewhere where he had to pretend that they were nothing more than friends; he didn't want to go through the agony of not being able to have her close. He pushed these thoughts aside as he got up and also headed for a shower; he did not want to risk both their lives by allowing thoughts such as that to linger.

They ate a light breakfast on the terrace before she disappeared to get ready. She chose a light, cream silk chiffon dress with split sleeves that showed off her tanned arms. The material clung perfectly to her curves and was made all the more daring with the deep V-neckline that plunged down into her cleavage but did little more than hint as to what was there.

"Am I going to have to find the appropriate jewellery or do you have the perfect finishing touch?" she called out from the bedroom as he waited for her on the balcony.

"What do you think?" he called back.

"I think you're going to surprise me." She said; stepping through the balcony doors. He was momentarily astounded; she looked stunning in her dress with sleeves that floated as she walked, matching cream heels and a clutch bag.

"I take it you approve." She said, judging his opinion by his transfixed gaze.

"Very much so. A little daring perhaps." His eyes flicked to the point where the neckline of her dress ended.

"No, just summery." She corrected with a smirk. "All it needs is a finishing touch."

Almost immediately he produced a cream velveteen box and opened it up to reveal a necklace that was quite different to others he had given her in the past. It was quite modern, made of a single string of white diamonds of no mean size, which entwined at the front and had two, very large, very brilliant, pale yellow pear shaped diamonds hanging at the end. The colour of the stones practically matched the colour of her dress, if slightly more yellow in colour.

"Not bad." She said, giving him an approving smile. "Not bad at all." She repeated as he laid the heavy string of jewels around her neck.

"You didn't think I wouldn't have been able to find you something, did you?" he asked in mock astonishment as she fastened the bracelet and slipped the earrings into her ears.

"Never in all the world." She kissed him before he could move away.

"Shall we go?" he asked, offering her his arm. She nodded, accepting his offer and allowing him to lead them to their waiting car. It looked almost exactly the same as the car and driver that had transported them after the Minister's Christmas reception, and she was not in the least surprised that he ravelled with his personal car. In a similar fashion to last time their car sped them off to the location of the stadium somewhere inland. They were in the Northern Territory of Australia, on the tip of the very northern coast, near Darwin and they glided past pristine beaches where they could see Muggle surfers cruising along the tops of waves.

They then turned inland, following a small route through the dense rainforest that she was sure that only they could see. Sure enough, after about quarter of an hour's ride, she began to see patches of colour through the greenery. There was blue, and yellow, and red and, as they got even closer; the hundreds of Swedish and Australian flags strung through the trees came into view. She could see the posters that indicated the various societies that had made the journey here and she could also see the influx of wizards and witches who were finding their campsites after arriving by Portkey. They glided past all of this, shielded by tinted windows and air conditioning, until one of the Ministry Wizards stopped their car.

"You can't just waltz through here mate." She heard him shouting as he approached. "It's off limits." The wizard, who was fairly young, waved his wand and the window next to which Lucius was sitting slid down.

"But I believe I can go right on through." He said in his arrogant tone, surveying the wizard up and down with his appraising look. Casting his mind back to something the Minister had told him earlier that morning; the young wizard, whose name was Mike, thought hard. 'And there's someone else arriving from England. A nice chap, Malfoy's his name; very rich and powerful so just let him go on through.' The Minister had told him something of his looks, 'long blond hair, and carries a cane', so he had a quick glance at the man who had addressed him from the car. He took one look at the blond hair, cold grey eyes, serpent topped cane and the svelte young woman with cascades of rich black hair who was sat next to him, and knew that this was the man.

"Sorry about that, Mr Malfoy, sir." He apologised quickly, trying not to let his gaze wander to the beautiful woman sitting beside him. "Just go straight on in, I believe the Minister's already there." Malfoy merely nodded and, with a wave of his wand, the window raised upwards once more and the car glided on.

"Lucky sod." Mike muttered as the car coasted off and he turned to walk back towards the cacophony of noise coming from the crowds of excited spectators. "At his age with a girl like that, I should be so lucky."

Inside the car, both of its occupants smiled having heard this comment.

"Very lucky indeed." He whispered in her ear as he slid his arm back around her waist. "And I'm not that old." She laughed and kissed his cheek. He was eager for more but, as luck would have it, at that moment the car came smoothly to a stop at the edge of a giant stadium. He stepped out first and then, being a gentleman and unable to ignore the proprieties ingrained in him since childhood, took her hand in his and helped her out. She stood in awe for a moment; gazing up at the huge wooden construction that was draped in red, blue and silver. It seemed to glow with a strange iridescent light; covered with so many enchantments that the magic could no longer effectively conceal itself.

"Not bad." She whispered as she looked up. "A bit bigger than what I'm used to."

"It seats over a hundred thousand, or so I've been told." He told her as they walked to the entrance at the foot of the stands where a smiling witch was waiting for them.

"G'day!" she greeted them, smiling brightly and taking their tickets. "Ah yes, top box. Best seats you can get. Just through that entrance on the left and on the stairs all the way to the top." She pointed them in after returning their tickets. Stepping through the archway they found another wizard who, again, inspected their tickets before lifting aside a red rope and allowing them to pass through. Standing before them was something similar to what there had been in Dubai, except that this revolving staircase went straight up to the very top of the stadium. They rose through the stands surprisingly fast and emerged in a small chamber just off the top box which, as it had done in Dubai, looked more like the top floor. They both straightened themselves out and brushed imaginary dust from their clothes before he smiled, placed his hand lightly on the small of her back, and they strode out into the sunlight.

The top box was again full of people, all of them looking excited and all of them absorbed in some conversation or other. She walked through the crowd slightly behind him, watching as he nodded to various people he knew, before he homed in on someone they both knew well.

"Ah, Lucius!" the voice of Cornelius fudge, the Minister for Magic, drifted over to them, followed by the man himself. "So good to see you again."

"It's a well deserved break Minister, after Narcissa's death you know." He told Fudge in a sombre tone.

"My goodness yes." Fudge looked truly moved by this statement but his eyes quickly lit up with interest as he spotted the figure standing behind Mr Malfoy. "And who might be this charming young lady you are hiding from us." He tilted his head to look behind Mr Malfoy, as he shook his hand.

"No one you don't now already, Fudge." Mr Malfoy smiled, reaching back to Kathryn and pulling her gently forwards once more.

"Why Miss Potter!" Fudge looked beside himself with glee. "Wonderful to see you too." He bowed and lightly kissed her hand, not noticing that Mr Malfoy's hand was still firmly on the small of her back.

"Good to see you too, Minister." She smiled back, carefully making sure that there was a reasonable distance between herself and Mr Malfoy so as not to seem too conspicuous.

"I am, to confess, rather surprised that you didn't bring your son, Lucius. I'm sure this would have been a good surprise as he is such a Quidditch fan." Fudge continued on with a questioning look to Mr Malfoy.

"Ordinarily yes," he began as Kathryn's heart started to race; they hadn't even considered an excuse for her being there, "but I believe this to be an adequate apology to Miss Potter."

"An apology?" Fudge was now confused, as was Kathryn; he wasn't actually going to explain what had happened, was he? "Whatever are you apologising for?" Fudge asked.

"If you'll remember, Fudge, at the end of last year my son was involved in a, well, an incident at Hogwarts." He explained. "An incident that endangered the life of Miss Potter."

"Ah, yes I do remember." Fudge had been apoplectic when he had heard what happened.

"Well, this is, I believe, a fitting apology for the actions of my son."

"Quite right." Fudge agreed in a stern tone. "And how have you been keeping, Miss Potter, after the events in France?" his tone was now one of concern.

"Oh not too badly." She told him truthfully. "The sale of the house was completed earlier this week so I am considerably better off, but that doesn't replace them. To be truthful, I didn't see or hear from them very often after I moved back to England; but they were still there and I just have to get used to them not being there anymore."

"That's good, and I expect that your friends have been a great help to you."

"Yes." And the man standing beside me, she thought.

"Now, I'm sure that you'll remember one of the teams playing today from last time, won't you?" sure enough, the Australian Minister for Magic had appeared next to Fudge and was introducing himself again. Moments later, the Minister from Sweden had arrived and the photographers had begun to gather. She began to shy away from the four important men when four pairs of hands beckoned her back to stand with them. She obliged them and stood at the edge of the group until the photographers moved her to the middle in order to balance the shot. They called for more and, as quickly as they could manage, took photos of her with each Minister in turn, then with Fudge and Malfoy.

The photographer wasn't one to know of their relationship, he wasn't one to pry into the affairs of visiting foreign dignitaries. He had overheard the pair of them speaking with Cornelius Fudge and, from what he had been able to discern, apart from her obvious identity as one of the famous Potter twins; was that the man, by the name of Lucius Malfoy, was obviously very important back in England and was the father of one of her school mates. A school mate who had done something untoward that had almost resulted in her death and that her coming here was a way of apologising for that. He also noted that the man talked about the death of someone the reporter assumed to be his wife, meaning that the man was now single. The photographer wasn't really bothered about this, as she was clearly young enough to be his daughter and there were no signs of anything untoward, just friends enjoying each others company.

It was just that he found them oddly captivating and curious. They seemed, however accidentally, to offset each other with their clothing. He was dressed entirely in black, which contrasted with his long blond hair. She, on the other hand, was dressed in head to toe cream that, in turn, contrasted with her long black locks. It made for an interesting image, and that was on his mind when he asked them to stand together for a photograph. They turned and stood for him as if they had done this before, his arm moving to the default position around her back whilst she turned on what appeared to be her most alluring, yet mysterious smile.

It was odd, the photographer thought as he thanked them and walked away, they looked almost as if they were meant to be together; they just had that well suited look despite the apparent age difference. He shook these thought from his mind, however, as he turned to concentrate on taking enough photos to make a decent income from the event. He knew he had the big money shot already; he was sure the English papers would pay a fortune for a picture of two of their most recognisable faces in the same picture, and then again with some of the world's most powerful men.

"That picture will haunt me if it's printed. And I have no doubt that it will be." Kathryn sighed immediately after the photographer had gone. "I won't hear the end of it from Harry, Hermione and Ron." He was about to reply when a great gong sounded and everybody stopped what they were doing.

"I believe that's our cue." He took her arm and led her over to the front row of ebony seats with burnt-orange upholstery. They were directly between the two sets of goal hoops and had an uninterrupted view of the pitch. All around them people were taking their seats in the stands and she could see thousands of pairs of gold omnioculars sweeping round the stadium; some peering at the top box to see if they could see anyone famous. Kathryn was not surprised, therefore, to see many pairs of omnioculars flash her way once people realised that there was a Potter sitting in the front row of the top box. The booming voice of the commentator rang out soon after and she was glad when the attention was diverted off her.

"Welcome, welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-seventh Quidditch World Cup!" there was much cheering and applause. Kathryn looked down at her tasselled program. 'A display from the team mascots' will precede the match' it read. Harry, Ron and Hermione had told her about the Veela and Leprechauns that had been the displays at the last World Cup and she wondered what the Australians and the Swedes would have prepared.

Once the crowds had settled down again and the mascots were safely situated on opposite sides of the pitch, the commentary started up again.

"Right, after that wonderful display," the commentator cried out over the wild applause.

"I think the Veela were better." He commented in her ear as the commentator went on.

"Well, you would say that, wouldn't you?" she raised her eyebrows as she whispered back.

"And now," the voice boomed again, "I give you the Australian national side!" seven players in deep blue robes sped out of an entrance onto the pitch.

"I give you," the commentator yelled, "Ferguson! Lynch! Birkett! Tyler! Kennedy! Wiggan! And, Arnott!" Kathryn could just make out the silver lettering on their backs as they sped round the stadium. She noted the change to the Australian line up with the replacement of their previous seeker with the relatively young, but highly skilled Felicity Arnott.

"And, please welcome the Swedish national team!" the commentator went on. Seven players in blue and yellow striped robes sped out of the opposite entrance.

"Please welcome; Andersson! Johansson! Mastersson! Frederikson! Mankell! Larsson! And Wallander!" as with their Australian counterparts, the Swedish team sped round the pitch several times before coming to settle in their positions.

"And now for our referee!" the commentator cried. "Please put your hands together for Fernando Feliciano!" despite the hunky image that name conveyed, Feliciano was a thin and gangly man with a shock of wild red hair that clashed terribly with his orange robes. He strode out onto the pitch, broom in hand and whistle between his teeth, towards the large crate that sat in the centre. It was wobbling slightly; owing to the ferocious Bludgers, balls that sped around and tried to knock players off their brooms, which it contained. He mounted his broom and kicked the lid of the crate open. Immediately the two Bludgers flew out of their restraints and began to zoom around the pitch. Kathryn also saw, for the tiniest of moments, the miniscule golden Snitch before that too vanished. Feliciano threw the Quaffle up between the players and gave a short, sharp blast on his whistle.

"They're off!" the commentator yelled. "It's Johansson, Andersson, Johansson, Mastersson, Tyler, Ferguson, Birkett, Ferguson, Birkett, Tyler, Australia score!" the crowds went wild as the scoreboard changed to _Australia 10_, _Sweden 0_. It was Quidditch like Kathryn had never imagined. She had thought that the qualifier in Dubai had been fast paced, but this; this was so fast that she found herself having to watch some parts in slow motion on her omnioculars. The Australian chasers were immense; they were a perfect team that seemed to all think in the same way. She hoped that this was what her Gryffindor squad had become, despite their few problems at the start of sixth year.

She spent most of the match perched on the edge of her seat, unable to tear her eyes away from the game. There had already been several fouls on the Swedish part and the Australian Keeper was sporting a black eye as a result. The score was now seventy, sixty to Australia and the game was moving so fast that the commentator was finding it difficult to keep up with the Chasers as they passed the Quaffle between them. A collective gasp swept through the crowd as, in a moment of carelessness, two of the Swedish Chasers collided with one of the Australian Beaters. Medi-Wizards swarmed onto the pitch as Kennedy fell from his broom, catching him before he hit the pitch and giving him some potion.

"He's back in the game, no need to worry!" the commentator said jovially as a slightly dazed Kennedy flew back up to join his team mates.

Twenty minutes later, in the midst of a speedy commentary, the commentator suddenly yelled; "Look at Arnott go!"

Turning in her seat, Kathryn trained her omnioculars on the Australian seeker who was, with a look of pure concentration on her face, speeding towards the ground.

"She's seen the Snitch!" the commentator cried.

"She's feinting." Kathryn whispered straight after this into Mr Malfoy's ear. Sure enough, at the last possible moment, Arnott pulled out of her dive and shot up into the air. The Swedish seeker, Wallander, was not so lucky; slamming into the pitch face first and skidding about twenty feet. Medi-Wizards again rushed out and surrounded the fallen player who looked very stunned and was clutching a bloody nose.

"See!" she whispered again. "She just wants the time to look for the Snitch without him following her around. She pointed down to the burly Swedish Seeker who was, at that point having his broken nose mended.

A couple of penalties and goals later, and the scoreboard read _Australia 130_, _Sweden 90_. The Swedish players were struggling to keep possession of the Quaffle as the Australian Chasers sped round them; stealing it whenever they attempted to pass between them. The Beaters were also not having the best of times either; trying to protect their players as well as avoiding being hit themselves. One of them had a bloody nose and another had taken a nasty hit to his leg but had refused medical assistance. Harry had been right when he had said that Australia had the better line up. The Swedish team were floundering desperately against the might of the Australian chasers and Kathryn only hoped that the snitch was caught soon to end their pain.

"And its Ferguson with the Quaffle, Birkett, Tyler, Birkett scores!" the commentator cried. "That leaves the score one hundred and forty to Australia and ninety to Sweden." Kathryn watched as the Chasers dodged the Bludger sent their way by the Swedish Beater. Quite by chance, she caught a glimpse of the Snitch as it fluttered near the Swedish Keeper's ear. This was replaced a second later by a flash of blue as the Australian Seeker shot after it.

"And Arnott has her eye on the Snitch, she's not feinting this time!" the commentator cried into the now silent stadium apart from the cries coming from the brightly coloured rosettes. Kathryn watched on the edge of her seat as the Swedish chaser followed closely behind Arnott; trying in vain to catch up.

"You won't catch her, she's got a Firebolt." She whispered as she watched Wallander fall behind. Sure enough, the Swedish seeker could not keep up and, moments later, she saw Arnott's fingers close around the tiny Golden Snitch.

"And that's it!" the commentator shouted, although he was barely heard over the cheers coming from all sides. "Australia win; three hundred and twenty points to ninety!" the crowds exploded with joy; Australian supporters sending red, blue and silver fireworks into the sky with their wands. The Australian side sped round the pitch several times; Arnott waving the Snitch above her head in triumph.

"And now the Quidditch Cup is brought into the top box." The commentator informed them as the lights in the stadium dimmed. She saw thousands of pairs of omnioculars train themselves on the top box as it was brightly illuminated. Kathryn squinted as the gigantic silver cup was brought forward and both teams landed in the box. The Australian and Swedish Ministers congratulated the defeated Swedes first; presenting them with their medals before turning to the Australian side, all of whom had huge grins on their faces.

The Australian Minister handed them the cup, which they raised above their heads in victory, much to the delight of the crowds. Flashbulbs went off at the photographers descended on the scene; capturing the Australian victory in all its glory. The people in the top box also rose from their seats to congratulate both teams. The Australian team greeted Kathryn as if she was an old friend, despite the fact that they had only met her once. She made sure to congratulate Arnott on her tactics and skill and they spent a good ten minutes discussing what it was that made the Firebolt such an outstanding racing broom.

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A/N - Her necklace is inspired by some of the Graff pieces that I found on their website. As for the mascots...well...I'll leave that up to your imaginations as I couldn't think of anything suitable/plausable...


	27. Chapter 27

Disclaimer - Not mine etc etc etc

A/N - The final installment of the Australian excursion...where he does something rather foolish, just because he can...

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She was loath to leave; the atmosphere in the stadium was so electric. She descended the spiral staircase feeling euphoric; she had just witnessed some of the best Quidditch she was ever likely to see and she too would soon be playing in a final. She couldn't wait to get back on her broom and training; already her mind was formulating new strategies to outsmart the Slytherins and plotting how she could manage to fit all this in without having to add even more practices to their weekly schedule.

"Something on your mind?" he asked as they were driven back to their villa.

"Oh, what?" she was startled out of her reverie.

"Is there anything on your mind?" he asked again.

"Oh, I'm just planning how to beat your son's team in the Quidditch final, that's all." She gave him a mischievous smile. "After all, I'm not planning on losing."

"Do you ever?"

"No." The tone of certainty in her voice spoke volumes and he very much doubted that her next match would be an exception.

They arrived quickly at the villa and, without a word; she disappeared into the bedroom and shut the door behind her, reappearing five minutes later in a new, halter neck black bikini. She had covered this, however, with a black sarong with a sequin detail that was tied at the waist and floated loosely open at the side. He was out on the balcony reading with a cool drink resting on the table. Without saying anything, she went out the side door and walked down the path to the beach. She walked slowly across the warm sand, enjoying the feel of the sun on her face and the sand between her toes. She just felt completely, well, at ease here; the place was so beautiful that nothing, not even the depressing situation back home, could spoil it. The light breeze sent her sarong fluttering in the air. Her hair did the same, the wavy strands sweeping out behind her as she walked towards the gently splashing waves.

Looking up from his book; he saw the figure, all clad in black, standing in the water. Setting his book down, he ventured out of the door and headed over to where she was standing. He walked in the shade of the palm trees that bordered the beach. She seemed to be just standing there, lost in contemplation. Calf deep in water, she did not seem to notice or care about the water that splashed gently about her legs; soaking the sarong tied about her waist. He paused for a moment and, shedding his usual lofty manner, he removed his shoes and socks; leaving them sitting on one of the bent boughs of a palm tree.

This was a strange experience for him. He was acting completely out of character and he knew it. The high and mighty Lucius Malfoy did not walk barefoot along the beach, yet something about her made him not care anymore. In truth, he could not remember when he had last felt sand in-between his toes; probably some time in his early childhood, before he'd had to worry about the image of the esteemed Malfoy family that he had to present. It was a very nice sensation, he found; the warmth of the sand pleasing as he walked over to her.

She did not move as he approached; his footsteps inaudible on the sand. She was stunned to hear him as he walked into the water, not expecting him to do such an uncharacteristic thing. Once he was stood directly behind her he placed his hands lightly on her shoulders; her skin pleasingly warm to the touch. In response she tilted her head and let one of her cheeks brush against his fingers. Turning her round, he pulled her close and, not taking his hands from her arms, touched his lips to hers for the most fleeting of moments. She smiled as his lips whispered across her jaw and down her neck where they feathered over her collarbone. His hands ran lazily down her arms; wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer still and almost lifting her off the ground.

She laughed as she kissed him back, her arms snaking around his neck, the soaked fabric of her sarong tickling her legs. She was slightly taken aback by how forward he was being, after all, anyone could happen upon their beach. It was private, but that did not stop people from ignoring the signs. Apparently, however, he wasn't worried about this as he nuzzled at the curve of her neck, making her gasp as his breath tickled her skin. Considering her actions, she too was seemingly unconcerned about anyone seeing them as her fingers ran through his hair and her hands gripped the fabric of his shirt; unwilling to let him go.

So lost in each other, they did not notice the dark blue car that passed along the road that bordered their beach. Inside was none other than Cornelius Fudge. On his way to the Australians' victory party, he gazed out of the window absent-mindedly pondering the day's events when something caught his eye. Passing a row of palm trees that were thinner than the rest, the Minister caught a glimpse of two people standing on the beach. He could make out the skirt of what appeared to be a young woman with long, dark hair as she was held tight by a man that he did not have the chance to see as they rounded a bend and the couple disappeared from sight. He forgot about them as quickly as they had appeared, his mind returning to the match and the more pressing problems he had to face at home.

"The Australians' invited us to their victory party you know." She told him as they walked back through the surf to the villa.

"Well then I suppose we'll have to go."

"Do we have to?" she asked, giving a small sigh that almost completely undid him.

"Yes, unless you want people to talk."

"I could think of many other things to do." She gave him an impish smirk, gazing intently up into his eyes.

"Yes, well," he was taken aback at how direct she was being, "there will be time enough for that later." Giving her a thoughtful look, his hand migrated lower on her back; eliciting a satisfying blush on her cheeks.

"Fine." She murmured as they kept on walking.

The Australian team were having their victory party on a beach only a few coves around from where they were staying. It only took ten minutes to walk there and they arrived with the party already in full swing. He had remained in his staple black suit despite the heat, although this one was made from linen so infinitely more comfortable in the heat. She was actually pleased with herself as she had managed to coax him into a pair of flip flops, which were definitely more appropriate for the beach than his usual footwear.

She had again changed her bikini, this one dark blue with sparkly beading, and was wearing a dark blue, halter-neck maxi-dress over the top. Although the dress was long and billowed around her legs, it was made of a thin, gauzy material and was very low cut, doing nothing to conceal what was beneath. She had woven a broken scallop shell, found when swimming the other day, into her hair at the back just to spice up the loose waves.

He headed in the direction of Fudge and the Australian Minister who was looking distinctly odd in a pair of brightly coloured shorts and a T-shirt when compared to Fudge in his terribly restrained beige trousers and white shirt. She, however; having had enough of hanging round with politicians, headed over to where the team stood by a smoking barbeque. She caught the distinct, irresistible aroma as she approached; causing her stomach to rumble, having not eaten since breakfast.

There weren't many people at the party; only the players' friends and families as well as some Australian officials and famous faces. It was all very friendly and she found it easy to talk to the players as they were not surrounded by hoards of people trying to congratulate them; the people here had already done so. They swapped strategies and they gave her tips once she told them that their Quidditch final was approaching. They lay on the warm sand, drinking beer, eating barbeque food and swapping Quidditch stories whilst the party went on around them. It was then that she spotted the seven boards stuck into the sand beneath the palm trees.

"Do you surf?" she asked, nodding her head at the row of boards.

"Who doesn't?" Dav Tyler, a handsome, well built chaser said to her.

"Would you like us to teach you how?" Ferguson, another handsome chaser, offered. Both of the striking players were shamelessly flirting with her and, although she enjoyed the attention, she had seen Lucius' eyes flick angrily over to them several times. She smiled and batted her eyelashes at them both, rewarding them for their attention.

"You assume I don't know how." She cocked an eyebrow at him as she raised her wand. "Accio board!" she spoke and, seconds later, her black board had landed in the sand before them. Unashamedly, she stood and undid the tie at the neck of her dress, allowing it to slip off and pool around her ankles. "Well, are you coming?" she asked them as she lifted her board beneath her arm. The Australian team sat there, momentarily stunned, before summoning their boards and following her out.

The water was crisp and cool on her sun-warmed skin and she relished the spray in her face as she paddled out. She could see many of the people on the beach watching them; the Australian team obviously being very good surfers by the looks of anticipation on the spectators' faces. Back on the beach, Lucius smirked to himself as they watched the eight people in the water. He could see the looks on the chasers' faces; they were both vying for her attention and were obviously going to try and impress her. Little did they know that their efforts were all in vain and she would not so much look at either of them. He also took pleasure in the fact that she was probably about to outdo them both. He had noticed that they had all taken their wands with them whereas Kathryn did not. She obviously had the talent for this rather odd Muggle sport and did not need to modify the conditions with magic.

His theory was proven as, like she had done the other day, she began to ride the large wave; slicing through the water as if she did this every day and was nothing more than going for a stroll in the park. Her Australian fellows, whilst being considerably skilled, did not seem to have her understanding of the water and had their wands constantly at the ready. He saw them stop waves so they wouldn't crash down on them and cause them to fall in. Fudge, he could see, was looking very smug; obviously glad that, although the England Quidditch team had failed to make it to the final, there was at least something that England seemed to be better at.

She smiled widely as she coasted into the shallows, knowing that he was watching her; she could just see the smile playing across his face. Just before she lost all momentum and toppled off her board, she dived into the crystal clear water and waited for the other seven people to catch her up.

"How long have you been surfing?" Tyler cried out as he paddled up to the girl who was floating in the water with her arms over her board.

"Since I was eight." She replied. "Why?"

"It takes ages to be able to do that without magic." Ferguson added, gliding up beside her.

"Well, I've had eleven years to practice. But I only just got back on a board yesterday after a three year break." This statement only served to shock them more. They surveyed her incredulously as she pulled herself back onto her board and paddled back out.

Like the previous day, she stayed on her board a lot longer than the rest of them. They dragged their boards out after only another hour whereas she stayed in the water until it started to get dark and the temperature began to drop. She banished her board back to their villa and pulled her dress back on, only to have it soak completely through. The cool night air was quite noticeable after a day spent in the sunshine. Taking the drink she was offered, she sat with them and talked some more; the two chasers again flirting with her in the hope of success.

Ducking out of a conversation about the pros and cons of the wand ban in official Quidditch matches, she wrapped her arms across her chest for warmth and wandered across to where he was standing with Fudge.

"Ah, Miss Potter." Fudge cried, spotting her first. "Had, er, fun?" he seemed to lose his composure when he saw her very wet, very clingy attire. She assumed she must have looked interesting, what with her wet hair plastered to her back, skimpy bikini and sodden dress that clung to every inch of her and had sand clinging to the bottom. Without a moment's hesitation, Lucius had whipped off his jacket and set the soft fabric about her shoulders.

"Thanks." She acknowledged as he waved his wand and, in an instant, she was dry and a wave of warmth was spreading through her body. And yes, I have had a wonderful time." She smiled at Fudge, distracting him from how familiar she and Lucius were with each other. "I've missed surfing. I used to go every summer when I lived in France; my foster parents had a house on the beach."

"Pardon my asking, but has that been sold with the rest of the property?"

"No." She shook her head. "I've decided to keep it. Hopefully I'll be able to get some use from it. There's plenty of space and it would be nice to go there again. It's miles away from anything so you're guaranteed peace and quiet!" shooting a quick look at Lucius, she could see that he could think of a perfect way to put the house to use.

"Something I'm sure we could all use." Fudge chuckled.

"Indeed." Lucius agreed.

"Well, eventually I'm sure I'll get there." She laughed, gazing out at the ocean and sincerely hoping that she would.

"Well Minister," Lucius interjected, checking the time, "we'd best be off as we have an early Portkey to catch. Sorry you won't be able to join me for dinner but I am sure that Miss Potter will be agreeable."

"Of course." Kathryn nodded, her heart fluttering slightly at the prospect of not having to pretend in front of Fudge all evening.

"Yes, terribly sorry about that, but duty calls. Good evening Lucius, Miss Potter." He bowed to them both and lightly kissed her hand.

"Goodbye Minister." She waved him goodbye as they walked back across the beach.

They walked in silence down the winding, sandy road that led to their villa, the both of them tired after their long day, but both wondering about what would happen once they got back indoors. It was unexpected then, that the silence was broken by a shout.

"Hey! Wait!" It was Tyler, running along the road towards them. "You aren't leaving now, are you?" he asked, panting slightly as he caught his breath.

"Well, I'm leaving in the morning," she began, but was unable to finish her sentence. Tyler had, at that point, wrapped his arm around her waist; causing the jacket to slip off and reveal her bare shoulders and the enticing cut of her dress.

"Oh come on." His hands stroked over her warm skin. "I'm sure I could amuse you." He murmured in her ear. She caught the smell of beer on his breath. He began to pull her away, his arm fixed uncomfortably about her waist, and she didn't have the energy left to resist. Looking back over her shoulder she saw, for the briefest of moments, anger flare up in his eyes. She could see his hands toying with the serpent top of his cane and she could tell that he was fully prepared to hex the young player. Instead, however, he thought quickly and apparated to a point just in front of them.

"Excuse me," he said in his most dangerously charming voice, placing his arm about Kathryn's shoulders and detaching her from Tyler's grip, "but I believe that I saw her first." A smirk played across his face as he swept past Tyler and continued to walk onwards; not relinquishing his hold around her. All Tyler could do was stand there stunned until, all of a sudden, comprehension dawned on him. Kathryn's heart was tight with worry, knowing the conclusion he would arrive at. The man by her side, however, seemed to have anticipated this too and, with a quick wave of his wand, had modified the young man's memory.

"Smooth." She commented as they walked back, replacing the jacket back around her shoulders and resting her arm round his waist.

Once they had climbed the steps and were through the front door of the villa, he headed into the lounge area to sort out preparations for their departure the following morning whilst she disappeared through the bedroom door, presumably to change. When she did not reappear, propelled by curiosity, he followed her. In the doorway her dress lay in a heap, as if she had just untied it and left it where it fell. His jacket was abandoned in the same fashion not long after that. His eyes travelled over this trail to the bed.

Here, she was lying diagonally, face down across the mattress; still wearing her bikini and with her arms crossed beneath her cheek. Here, she was lying diagonally, face down across the mattress; still wearing her bikini and with her arms crossed beneath her cheek. Kicking off the flimsy shoes she had insisted he wear, he lay down beside her and stroked one of his hands up the curve of her back. The other pushed her hair out of the way so as to give his lips access to her neck. His gentle ministrations earning him a small moan of pleasure as he pulled her closer. She, in turn, rolled over to face him and allowed her hands to freely roam beneath his shirt and through his hair. She smiled as she managed to draw out a small gasp of desire as she pushed herself closer into him. She earned another sharp intake of breath as she sat astride him; pulling him upright so that she could remove his shirt without having to cease her affections.

It was then his turn. Grasping her firmly about the waist he held her still as he rolled on top of her, delighting at the way she arched into his lightest touch. Every little gasp or sigh of pleasure he managed to extract from her lips only served to undo him further and, dispensing with the foreplay, practically tore off what little clothing she was wearing; greedily taking what she offered. They lay tangled in each other, neither really sleeping, but just enjoying being close to the other.

Their rest was, unfortunately, spoiled by their departure time and they rose at half past two that morning to get ready to leave. A few well chosen words had their bags packed and all their belongings gathered and ready by quarter to three and they stood on the balcony waiting; clutching the same chipped teapot. At two forty seven exactly, they felt the familiar tug behind their navel and the next moment they were landing on the steps at the entrance to Malfoy Manor. In contrast to the superb weather they had enjoyed in Australia, they nearly slipped as they landed; having arrived in the middle of a ferocious early-summer thunderstorm.

They spilled into the cavernous Entrance Hall, completely drenched as a fork of lightning cracked across the sky and thunder rumbled loudly above them. One of his many house elves appeared immediately and relieved them of their luggage and dripping cloaks before informing them that dinner was ready. Glancing at a clock she saw that it was only seven in the evening, Thursday evening. It was slightly bizarre to be living the evening twice, but she didn't mind as they sat down to a warm dinner; the both of them having had precious little to eat the day before.

They talked over the match before she excused herself to go and get showered, still having the salt in her hair from the afternoon's surfing. In the huge master bathroom she returned the moisture and lustre, stolen by the salt, to her hair and carefully moisturised her skin to keep the healthy glow. She noted that her bags had been placed in the master suite. They had been placed several times in one of the guest bedrooms and she had actually seen him kick one of the house elves down the stairs for its mistake. The house elves, after that, had obviously learned from their mistake and her bags were now always placed in the master suite.

Pulling the zip open, she withdrew something she knew he would enjoy and carefully put it on. She would never have imagined that she would have reached a point that she was dressing for him. She had gone from being forcibly undressed by rough, demanding hands to relishing his touch and making sure that there was something under her clothes to impress him.

Her choice this evening was a corset of pale pink silk covered with black lace; something she had chosen whilst in Paris and had lain unworn since. She slipped on matching French knickers and, to complete the look, she twisted her hair loosely up around a silver pin so it was lifted away from her face but still cascaded down her back; leaving a few strands falling round her face so the overall image was not too severe. Finally, she fastened a choker made of a thin strip of black velvet around her neck and turned to look at herself in the mirror. Quite pleased with her appearance, she stepped into the adjoining walk-in wardrobe and headed straight for his expansive wardrobe. From behind the carved mahogany doors she pulled a long, dark green dressing gown and slipped her arms into it. It was luxurious to be sure, with a silk damask pattern on the collar and cuffs and a silky soft lining. Of course, it was far too big for her, but she didn't care as she stepped out into the corridor and headed for his study.

She could hear the rain lashing against the windows as she walked to the opposite side of the manor, where his study was located. Despite the roaring fires, it was slightly chilly, and she was glad for the warmth of the robe that was trailing behind her. Opening the door to his study she saw him sitting by the fire, with his feet up; apparently engrossed in a book. She swept into the dimly lit room and walked straight past him to look out of the window.

Unlike Muggle houses she had seen with their fake mullioned windows that had an ugly array of criss-crossing strips of metal lain onto the glass to create miniscule squares that completely obscured the view, Malfoy Manor had the real stuff. Large panes of glass were held together by strips of lead; the glass being large enough to allow a good view of the grounds. She stared out at the rain beaten landscape, lit up every so often by flashes of lightning and followed by great rolls of thunder, for a moment before turning her head to look back at him.

He was still sat in his comfortable armchair but his eyes were no longer on his book. They were fixed on her and the book lay open in his lap. Without him having to say a word she walked slowly over to him; understanding exactly what he meant for her to do and taking pleasure in making him wait. He reached out his left hand for hers once she was close enough; his eyes taking in every detail of her attire that was visible through the unfastened robe. She placed her hand in his palm and stood still for a moment; watching him as he swept his supercilious gaze over her. She gave a small smile, knowing that he was happy with what he saw; revelling slightly in her ability to bring such a proud man to his knees. Taking his smirk as her sign to continue, she swung the robe over his legs and lowered herself into his lap.

One hand trailed up her exposed thigh whilst the other ran beneath the collar of the robe and stopped to stroke the smooth curve of her neck; drawing her mouth down to his as it did so. Flashes of lightning illuminated the dark corners of the room as they sat there but they were ignored, the pair of them forgetting everything but each other for the present time. She kept on shifting her weight slightly on his lap; continually adjusting her position according to where his hands wanted to roam. He pulled his lips away from hers for a moment and, before she could stop herself, she gave a small gasp of displeasure. A smirk played across his lips; obviously pleased that he still had this effect on her.

"Stop fidgeting," he murmured in his usual velvety tone, causing a shiver to course up her spine, "I believe Muggles generally pay for this kind of, er, attention." She felt the heat rise in her cheeks as he spoke; realising what she had been unintentionally been doing. The patches of red on her cheeks only enhanced her coquettish appearance and, despite how beautiful she looked, it only intensified his desire.

"Of course," he went on, "that does not mean that the attention is unwelcome." His lips found her earlobe and bit down lightly and the words that had been poised on the tip of her tongue were replaced by a soft mewl of pleasure.

Another flash of lightning lit up the room as he slipped the robe from her shoulders and tossed it aside. His kiss and touch were becoming more and more insistent and she found a hand groping at the back of her underwear. She caught his hand with hers and looked quickly into his eyes. Reading the slightly startled look in her eyes, he was worried that she was going to run. There was another flash and, with a strange gleam in her eyes, she smiled at him before lowering her body down onto his and kissing him again.

"Why do you torment me?" he said in a hoarse whisper as her lips trailed a path down his neck whilst her hands deftly undid the buttons of his shirt.

"Because it's fun." She smiled coyly back at him before shuffling backwards off his lap and standing in front of his chair, her arm stretched out; asking him to come too. He took a moment to admire the beauty of the young woman standing before him in nothing more than very extravagant underwear, before rising up to meet her. She was about to head for the doorway, leading him by the hand, until he stopped her and pulled her instead to stand before the fireplace. She was bemused by what he intended to do until he pulled her down to kneel on the plush fur rug beneath their feet. She reached round to her back to pull the ribbon of her corset free but his hand stopped her.

"Leave it on." He whispered, his hand instead fiddling with the waist of her underwear. She did not flinch as he slipped them down to her knees, allowing him to lower her into a lying position as he pulled them past her knees and dropped them on the floor nearby. She wasn't sure if she was actually blushing or whether it was just the heat from the fire that caused her cheeks to redden as he manoeuvred on top of her. Her embarrassment was soon forgot, however, as he kissed her hungrily; her body arching into his every touch.

The thunderstorm has not dissipated by the time she crawled beneath the covers of the great four-poster in the early hours to lie next to him. The rain drumming on the windows was a far cry form the gentle lapping of waves she had been able to hear through the window of their bedroom in Australia. She tossed and turned next to him, sleep evading her for some reason. She lay on her side, staring at the man lying asleep beside her, and beginning to ponder the future. Their future. From what she had heard from Snape and other Order members, whatever Voldemort had planned was going to happen sooner than they would like. All her mind could do was land on the worst case scenarios if either side claimed victory. Would she be able to save him should she and Harry defeat Voldemort? Would she be able to spare him from the dreaded Dementor's Kiss? With these questions buzzing through her mind, she snuggled closer to him and planted a soft kiss on his shoulder.

"I will save you," she whispered in the darkness, "I promise." With that, she closed her eyes and let the sound of his breathing lull her to sleep.

By the time she woke up the following morning, the storm had passed and sun sparkled through the glass. He was still dozing beside her and, as quietly as possible, she slipped out of bed and pulled on the pyjama bottoms that were poking out of the opening of her bag. Once she had found her top, she pulled on his green robe that she had worn the night before and crept silently from the room. The rest of the manor was dark and silent as she walked down the large staircase; the curtains not yet open, heading towards the kitchens. It was only within this room that she found some signs of life. Several of the many house elves that he owned were in here cleaning out the fireplace and making preparations for the coming day.

They all snapped to attention when they noticed her presence and nearly fell over themselves when she asked for two mugs of tea. She could see the fear in their eyes as they boiled the water and fetched the teapot and teabags. They all wore similar pillowcases or tea towels tied around their thin bodies to form a very basic garment.

Returning upstairs five minutes later she found him still sleeping. Now rolled over on his side, however, she saw something she had never noticed before. Along his lower back was a fairly long, thin scar that curved up towards his spine. In truth she wondered how she had never seen or noticed that before now. Setting the mugs down on the bedside table she climbed back up onto the mattress and ran her index finger down the length of the wound. She knew that it must be from a dark curse or some kind of magic as it had not been healed fully and had scarred. His body quivered slightly under her touch and, without warning, he jerked awake and rolled over to face her.

"Easy," she said softly, running her fingers through his hair, "I was just wondering how that happened." She wormed her fingers back underneath his torso and gave the scar a gentle prod.

"A mistake." He replied, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"The Ministry fiasco in fifth year, you mean." She finished, knowing what mistake he had been punished for. He nodded, pushing himself up to lean against the headboard.

"I was lucky that's the only mark I've got to show for it."

"If I remember rightly, I am lucky I escaped with my life." She said coolly back, handing him his mug of tea as she did so.

"Yes, but you're the one who chose to be noble."

"I shall remember that the next time someone has their wand on you. Let's see what you think of 'nobility' then." She was lying when she implied that she would stand by and watch if he was ever cornered by the Order.

She knew full well that she would probably be placing herself between Auror and Death Eater and thus revealing her terrible secret. She leaned against his chest and pondered what she had just said. Was it true? Would she willingly throw herself in front of an Auror for him? She would consider those questions when the time came, for now though, she was perfectly content to lie against his chest and have his fingers whimsically play with her hair.

It was with great reluctance that she kissed him goodbye at three o'clock; all she wanted to do was stay for a little longer but she knew that her continued absence would not go unnoticed. She stood there, slightly more laden than when she had arrived due to the surfboard under her arm and the things that he had insisted she take. He too was sad to see her go, even thought he knew he would soon be seeing her. Her continued presence in his house only put their lives at further risk should his Death Eater friends come to call, and that was something he did not want to jeopardise, not when the end of the war was so tangibly near.

* * *

A/N - Lucius Malfoy in flip-flops...I'll admit to having quite a giggle when I wrote that bit.


	28. Chapter 28

Disclaimer - Not mine...etc etc

A/N - A rather interesting article is published after the World Cup and, for once, the Daily Prophet is onto something (not that they know it of course!). Please read and review!

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Her arrival in the hallway of Grimmauld Place caused much fuss; partially because everyone wanted to hear about the match and in part due to the tip of her surfboard dislodging the curtain covering the portrait of Mrs Black. Her shrieks followed them up the stairs as they dragged her things up to her room. She dumped them on her sofa and then hurried back downstairs to say hello to everyone properly. Sirius hugged her tightly, glad to have her back, before Mrs Weasley pulled her into a gripping hug and persisted in telling her how glad she was that she was safe. Once she had extricated herself from her stranglehold she emptied a small bag of match souvenirs for them, including scarves, miniature models of the players, rosettes, posters and hats topped with tiny bouncing kangaroos.

"Brilliant!" Ron cried as he seized one of the models. "Did you meet any of them?"

"Yeah," she nodded her head enthusiastically, "I met all the Australian team when I went to the match in Dubai last year, except their seeker, they've added her to the squad for the actual contest."

"I told you Australia would win." Harry said, inspecting one of the rosettes.

"The opposition wasn't really that great though, they were all over the place." Kathryn agreed.

"We heard," piped up Tonks, "sounded like they hadn't a clue what they were doing."

"So, will we be seeing any of the Australian tactics in your own Quidditch final?" Lupin asked from his seat next to Tonks who was now gazing at him with an expression of adoration.

"I'd be stupid not to." Kathryn nodded enthusiastically. "They are an amazing team; I just hope mine will be acquiescent to a stricter training schedule."

"Oh we will!" Ginny sounded raring to go already. "If it means we can thrash the hell out of Slytherin I will train night and day."

"I'm not sure we will need to do twenty four hour sessions," Kathryn laughed, "but your enthusiasm is appreciated and duly noted."

"You're going to have to be really good then." George remarked.

"Got the family and friends to impress haven't you?" Fred continued his brother's sentence.

"What?" Kathryn was slightly bemused.

"You didn't think we'd miss your final match at Hogwarts, did you?" Sirius asked, raising a quizzical eyebrow.

"Well, no, but," her heart was racing; "I just didn't know that I'd have to put on my best show!" she laughed. "It'll be great to have you there; I love kicking the crap out of Malfoy when his Dad's watching but with you there it'll be even better." She might have laughed on the outside, but inside, her stomach had gone all tight and her heart was fluttering madly. Would this mean that her absence would be missed more easily and that she would not get to see him at all? She stayed and chatted about the match for a while longer, giving them a blow by blow account, before heading upstairs with Ron, Hermione, Harry and Ginny in tow.

"I'll say it now," Harry said in an annoyed tone as soon as the door was closed, "is there anywhere that scumbag isn't?" he flopped down onto the sofa and pulled Ginny down next to him. Ron adopted a similar position with Hermione sitting on the arm of his comfy chair, her hand playing with his hair. Kathryn settled herself cross legged on the fur rug and waited for the tirade of insults that were about to issue from Harry's mouth.

"I know, Harry, before you start."

"It doesn't matter if you know," he said sardonically, "it's the fact that Fudge hasn't realised yet." He tossed her the morning copy of the Daily Prophet. Sure enough, the photo of she and Lucius graced the front page.

"Well I can't exactly hex him in public, can I?" she said distractedly as she looked at the picture again and skimmed her eyes over the article. "That wouldn't do much good for my current standing in the good-books of Cornelius Fudge."

"She's right Harry," Hermione backed her up, "she can accomplish much more by staying on amicable terms with Fudge and his little clique."

"After all, a spy is better on the inside than on the outside." Ginny added, gazing up at Harry.

"I know, it's just annoying, no, maddening that he dares come so close." He gripped the sofa hard, as if trying not to lash out at something.

"He's arrogant Harry, that's why he dares to come so close. He is supremely overconfident in his thinking that he has escaped retribution." It hurt her slightly to speak of him in this way but she knew that anything less would be highly suspicious. "When he wants to be, however, and when the situation calls for it; he can be very charming. How do you think he has so much control over Fudge?" they all looked at her in surprise. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that I actually like him when he's charming." She added quickly. Well, I'm actually saying that I love him when he's like that, the thought to herself.

"Well he'll get his comeuppance so you shouldn't bother yourself mate." Ron said dismissive voice. "We have bigger problems than slimy Lucius Malfoy."

"There's actually a much more interesting article in there, a few pages in." Hermione motioned her hand towards the paper that Kathryn had before her. Turning the pages, Kathryn soon spotted the headline. The words 'POTTER FOR POLITICS?' stretched across what appeared to be a full page on her potential career choice.

"Well, let's see what they have to say." Picking up the paper, she scanned the text and began to read. "Is the well known Kathryn Potter, the child that brought down he-who-must-not-be-named along with her twin brother Harry Potter, destined for a career in politics, this reporter wonders?" Kathryn read out loud. "She has been seen over the course of the past two years at events usually reserved for those within the upper echelons of power." She read on, skipping a few paragraphs of twaddle. "Her most recent sighting was at the Quidditch World Cup final in Australia where she was seen mingling with both the Australian and Swedish Ministers' for Magic as well as our own Cornelius Fudge and the well connected Lucius Malfoy. Of course, this is not her first meeting with Minister Fudge, having been in contact with him for several years now; and she is apparently held in high regard by out highest ranking politician."

"It's quite a contrast from when we were a pair of liars, isn't it?" Harry remarked scathingly as she paused.

"Well, at least we were proved right in the end." She continued to read the article. "According to Percy Weasley, junior under-secretary to the Minister; 'Miss Potter is held in very high esteem by Minister Fudge, he considers her an important personal friend and treats her accordingly'. This reporter is curious as to whether Minister Fudge's actions are completely heartfelt or whether he is merely grooming Miss Potter for a life of great power once his time is up. Such a motive seems most evident in his carefully calculated invitations. The Quidditch qualifier in January of last year, his Christmas reception and now the Quidditch final only this Thursday; all events that the esteemed Lucius Malfoy also attended."

"That's quite the speculation." Kathryn scoffed. "I am invited to some events where he is also a guest and suddenly they think there I reason to suspect some grand scheme."

"I suppose that they have to think of something to write seeing as the Ministry makes them hush up so many stories." Hermione shrugged.

"According to various sources within the Ministry," Kathryn read on, "she has dined with the Minister several times and is one of the first names to be considered on any guest list for official Ministry events. Of course, due to her school commitments she has so far been absent from many functions. Once her education comes to a close, however, will she be present at the Ministry far more often?"

"They have an interesting take on Malfoy's persistent attention to you." Hermione commented, sliding off the arm of the chair and into Ron's lap.

"Oh really?" she raised an eyebrow and found the appropriate paragraph. "Mr Malfoy, the handsome, recently widowed head of one of Britain's oldest wizarding families, has long had a reputation for his well-connectedness and generosity to worthy causes. He has been a close ally of Minister Fudge for many years now and has apparently been enlisted in the gentle coercion of Miss Potter into a political career. He has been seen with her at the England Quidditch match in Dubai last year, the quarter final between England and Italy this year where she joined the Minister and his party about halfway through, and the Final this week; apparently being put to the task of making sure that she is not forgotten once the political heavyweights arrive."

"I should hope not!" Hermione laughed. Smirking, Kathryn continued to read.

"Unconfirmed reports have also reached this reporter of his actions at the Minister's Christmas reception. I shall stress that it is uncertain if this occurred but, if it did, it would have serious implications for Minister Fudge's designs on her future life. It is rumoured that when, at the reception, she was sitting alone, Lucius Malfoy accosted her and personally made sure that she was introduced to every important personage in the room that evening. I shall say that these included Chief Healers' from St Mungo's, heads of the larger Ministry departments, professional Quidditch players and musicians as well as other prominent figures in Wizarding society."

"And did he do that?" Harry asked.

"Sort of," Kathryn shrugged, "but people mainly introduced themselves of their own accord." She continued to read. "Of course, one cannot help but wonder if Fudge has designs on this young woman that go further then her potential career. Whilst he is keen to make sure that she has the right political connections, could he possibly wish for more than a political relationship between the girl who lived and the highly regarded Lucius Malfoy?"

"What rubbish!" Ginny snorted. "I can tell him what he'll get if he tries anything like that."

"Recently widowed, Lucius Malfoy is one of, if not the most, eligible bachelors in wizarding Britain. Already well connected and considered a veritable pillar of society, what more reason does Minister Fudge need to encourage romance between the pair? Surely a union between these two would create one of the most powerful political dynasties that wizarding Britain has seen for a long while. Those who have seen them together have commented on their apparent familiarity and have surmised that there is more than casual acquaintance behind their smiles. Of course this is mere speculation, but you cannot deny that the possibility is there."

"That had better be speculation." Harry said fiercely.

"Hear, hear," Kathryn added dryly, "I'd sooner drink undiluted Bubotuber pus than entertain thoughts of marrying that vile man." She continued reading the final words of the article to them. "It can be sure that, with the guiding hands of Lucius Malfoy, as well as the attentiveness of Minister Fudge; our young Miss Potter is certainly being groomed for a life of great power and privilege.'" Kathryn finished reading.

"Interesting, isn't it." Harry commented once she had finished.

"Certainly, but thankfully on completely the wrong track." She folded the newspaper up and put it on the floor by her bed. "Fudge may be subtly grooming me to follow a career in politics, I don't know if he is or not, but Lucius Malfoy is definitely not playing nice at Fudge's request. He is playing nice to be perfectly malicious; he knows that I can't hex him in public and that I just have to put up with him and smile for the cameras." She spoke with a bitter edge to her voice although she did not feel it in the slightest.

"It'll have Fudge in an uproar, won't it," Ginny said from the sofa, "I mean, if he is really planning something like that because now he'll assume that you'll be on your guard."

"Yes, but Fudge knows that Harry and I don't trust the Prophet to save our lives; he'll think his plan, if he indeed has one, is safe."


	29. Chapter 29

Disclaimer - Everything belongs to JKR, I just like to borrow it and have a bit of fun.

A/N - The Quidditch final arrives and things get a bit violent on the pitch.

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She had meant it when she said that she would be intensifying their training regime in the fortnight leading up to the Quidditch final. They trained three times a week despite the fact that their exams were also approaching and then had nearly an entire day on the pitch on Saturdays. During the week they would train from when they finished dinner until the sun sank too low for them to see any longer. Despite their fatigue, they could not help but feel uplifted; they doubted that Gryffindor had ever had better chances and they were hopefully going to retain the Quidditch Cup for the seventh year in a row. She had already enlisted Fred and George to set up a monster fireworks display once they had finished watching the match and had warned Dobby that they would be needing lots of food and Butterbeer for the party in Gryffindor tower.

Despite her excitement, however, she could not shake the nagging voice in her head that kept on warning her how much more dangerous it was going to be with Sirius, Lupin, Tonks and all the Weasleys, bar Percy, in the castle. She had gotten away with disappearing before, but now; her absence was far more likely to be noticed when there were more people to notice that she was gone. She was certain that she would have to wait until they left; she was sure that Mr and Mrs Weasley would head off before the evening was out. As would Fred and George, they had a business to run after all. Tonks would surely have to go to work the next day and that would mean that Lupin would follow. Bill and Fleur would have work and Charlie would be heading straight back to Romania. That only left Sirius who would; she didn't doubt, be staying for the entirety of the party and would probably end up asleep on the common room sofa. The invisibility cloak would, therefore, be a necessity if she would want to pass Sirius unnoticed; he was incredibly sensitive to surrounding noise even when he was asleep, a by-product of his twelve years in Azkaban. It did not bother her; she had taken it as a precaution before so it was not something she had not expected.

On the morning of the match she was up and pacing the common room at six o'clock sharp. Her stomach was doing a mixture of jumping-jacks and sickening back flips as she waited for Ron, Harry and Ginny to wake up. Her eyes lingered on her uniform that was lying carefully over the back of an armchair. She had spent the better part of the previous evening making sure that it was spotless for the coming match. She had buffed up the worn brown leather that protected her arms and shins as well as the long brown boots they all wore. She had then spent the better part of the evening lovingly repairing every rip and snag in the red fabric of her cloak. She had removed the painted on letters that spelled out the name 'K. POTTER' and replaced them with the same but sewn on in thick gold thread. In finer red thread she had sewn a roaring Gryffindor lion onto the breast of the cream robes beneath. She had added the same motif to the wrists of her gauntlets and the sides of the leather armour protecting her legs. She'd also added a thin border of gold to the collar just to continue the theme of red and gold.

She gave up on Harry, Ron and Ginny by the time it got to eight o'clock and they still had not surfaced. She walked past the Gryffindors now surfacing from their dormitories and back into her own to find Hermione the only one awake. She pulled on a pair of jeans and a rugby jersey. Opening her wardrobe, she took out her last piece of Quidditch armour, concealed in its box from Quality Quidditch Supplies, and held it under her arm as she retrieved her broom from her trunk.

"Tell the other's that I've gone for breakfast and then I'm off down to the pitch." She told Hermione, who nodded silently, before walking out the door. She walked with purpose, stopping only to pick up her uniform, and no one dared waylay her as she made her way towards the portrait hole. Her stomach, which seemed to have returned to normal, resumed its gymnastics as soon as she entered the Great Hall and she could only manage to wolf down a few pieces of toast and some bacon before she gave up and headed out to the pitch.

The sun was already out and it made the morning dew sparkle a she walked out across the lawns. As she walked, she pulled the small missive out of where she had stashed it in her back pocket. The card had arrived in a burst of flame in her dormitory the week before. It had only contained a few words.

_Miss Potter._

_Good luck with your forthcoming match, I trust that you have no problem with raising the stakes to 500._

It was short and to the point; he would no doubt be in attendance and she was slightly excited at the prospect of being five hundred Galleons better off by the time the match finished. That was, of course, if they didn't lose. She wondered what her friends would say if they knew how much gold she had riding on the outcome of this match. She destroyed the card as she climbed the stairs that led to the Gryffindor changing room and finished getting ready. She had modified her uniform slightly for the final match, apart from the repairs she had made, adding a stiff, upright collar instead of the previous loose neckline. She thought it gave the uniform a more professional look as she pinned her Captain's badge to it. It was at the end of the previous year that she had made the decision to change the Gryffindor Quidditch uniform slightly. Originally, they had worn cloaks like their school robes, with proper sleeves. She had found that the sleeves could sometimes restrict mobility of the arms whilst playing. She had changed the cloaks to be more like those worn by professional players, with no sleeves for increased mobility, and they looked very smart indeed.

She queued her hair back at the nape of her neck with a stout silver clip that was studded with small rubies, allowing the long black strands to flow down her back, but preventing them from flying into her face. Her final addition was her armour; stained deep red and with the matching Gryffindor lion pained onto the front in gold. It was a very formidable look, she thought to herself, as she looked her reflection up and down in the mirror and the sounds of the rest of the team drifted to her ears.

"It's about time," she said jokily as they wandered through the door, "I've been up since six."

"Well that's because you're paranoid." Harry said back, his arm draped around Ginny's shoulders. He caught the fiery look that came into her eyes and hastily added "Only joking."

"I should hope so. And I'm not paranoid, I just don't get cocky."

"But it's Slytherin." Ron complained. "It's not like we haven't beaten them before."

"That doesn't mean we can't lose." She was now addressing the entire team. "They'll be hoping that we are feeling cocky because we will be more likely to make mistakes that could turn the game to their advantage."

"Easy Kathryn, you're starting to sound like Wood." Harry laughed, being the only one here who had actually experienced the team under the captaincy of Oliver Wood. He had been prone to giving long lectures on tactics that usually left the team more confused and sleepy then they had been at the start of practice.

"It's our last match; we might as well go out with a bang." She shrugged. "And I want an unbeaten record against Malfoy." There was the sound of more voices outside the changing room and then a few sharp gasps as the tall, long haired form of Sirius Black strode through the door.

"Oh get over it, it's only Sirius." She snapped irritably at the two beaters who looked to be a mixture of stunned and scared.

"I just came to say good luck." Sirius told them, giving Kathryn a hug before clapping Harry on the back. "You shouldn't have a problem, the weather's perfect."

"Thanks Sirius, who else is here?"

"We're all here; Mad-Eye says good luck because he couldn't come up. Anyway, I'd best be off, they'll be calling you out soon I expect." He gave her a final hug before heading out of the door and back into the stands.

"OK." She took a deep breath and picked up her Firebolt. "Everyone got their brooms?" the six other team members nodded. "Wands up their sleeves just in case?" there were four more nods; the beaters did not carry their wands as she had decided that their clubs could turn out to be a better weapon. "Everybody ready to kick Slytherin's arse?" a cheer went up from the team and they walked through the tunnel to the pitch entrance.

They shot out of the entrance in the Hawkshead formation with Kathryn at the head; looping around the pitch a couple of times before breaking off and watching as Kathryn flew to the centre of the pitch. Once she was directly in line with the centre dot she yanked the handle of her Firebolt sharply upwards. She held her vertical course until she was high above the stands and within reaching distance of the low, wispy clouds. It was then that she, to the crowds below, appeared to do a backwards loop except that she did not fully loop around. Several people screamed as she plummeted headfirst towards the pitch; taking her hands of her broom handle and spreading them out wide. The feeling of free-falling through the air was amazing; she felt liberated as the air whistled past her ears. She could hear the cries of fright from students and teachers alike but she felt no fear, only an incredible wave of calm. It did not worry her that she could not see where she was going, her eyes being closed, or that she was going faster than she had ever done before.

She opened her eyes when the shouts from the crowd became louder and pulled the handle of her broom up before it was too late, floating gently down to where Madam Hooch was waiting with the Quaffle. Malfoy joined the pair of them seconds later and the two captains, two mortal enemies, faced each other down on the Quidditch pitch for the last time.

"Scared Potter?" he asked in a sneering tone.

"You wish. What about you? Going to go crying to Daddy when you lose?" she shot back as they gripped each others hands.

They both kicked off hard as Madam Hooch threw the Quaffle into the air and the bludgers and Golden Snitch were released. Malfoy immediately darted upwards to look for the Snitch whilst Kathryn seized the Quaffle and shot for the Slytherin goal hoops. She dodged the opposing chases with ease and had got a goal past their keeper before he even saw her coming.

"And it's ten points to Gryffindor straight away!" Dean Thomas yelled out from the commentator's box. She caught sight of Sirius cheering loudly with the Weasleys, Lupin and Tonks as she sped after the Quaffle again. A few deft passes between she, Ginny and Emma had the score at twenty nil. The Slytherins had, however, seemed to recover from the initial shock and by the time they were half an hour into the match they were gaining fast on the Gryffindor lead. The Gryffindors spirits were not helped by the increasingly dirty tactics that were being employed against them. The final straw came for them when the bulking forms of Crabbe and Goyle collided into Kathryn's side in the one moment she had paused. She had been right in font of one of the tower boxes and, with her arms and legs wrapped protectively around her broom, she went crashing back first into the tiered wooden benches.

The entire stadium went silent as they heard the crunch of splintering wood and Madam Hooch blew her whistle sharply to suspend play. The wind knocked out of her, Kathryn opened her eyes to see where she was. That turned out to be buried beneath shattered wooden planks with her back against the tower wall. She felt a sting as she brushed her hand against her cheek and pulled her hand away to see blood on her fingertips. She felt a pair of hands grab at hers and pull her out of the large hole she had created. Her armour, however, seemed to have absorbed most of the force of the collision and she could feel no broken bones.

"My my, practically throwing yourself at me, and in public too." She heard the owner of the hands whisper. She looked up to see the smirking face of Lucius Malfoy. A biting remark was on the tip of her tongue but she held it back as several of the teachers who were also in that box swarmed around her. A few of them looked slightly ruffled; as if they had dived out of her way.

"I'm fine, I'm fine." She reassured them as she brushed herself off. "No harm done."

"You're bleeding." He said softly in her ear. "Hold still a minute." She obeyed his velvety tone without question and tilted her cheek towards him, allowing him to run his wand over the gash left by an errant nail. His fingers were soft on her skin as he inspected the wound. Her cheek went warm as he whispered the incantation to heal it but she wasn't too sure if she was actually blushing.

"Thank you." She said once he had finished, giving him a curt nod before heading to the edge of the box. She brushed her hair out of her eyes and realised that there was something missing.

"You left this." The smooth voice spoke again behind her. She turned around to see him picking her hair clip out of the splintered remnants of the seats.

"Oh, right," she turned around and walked back over to him, understanding that he wanted to say something more to her, "thanks." She reached out to take it from his left hand, conveniently the furthest away from her, meaning that she had to reach across him in the confined space of the front row to reach it. In the split second that their hands touched, he whispered in her ear.

"Double or nothing?" keeping her face impassive, she raised her eyebrows and gave him a look that clearly said 'if you really want to'.

"Thank you." She said quietly, fixing the clip into her hair and walking away, confident that he had got the message. Once again, she walked to the edge of the box and, without hesitation, climbed onto the edge as the crowd once again began to stir.

A triumphant cheer swept through the stadium as she mounted her broom once more, followed by a rising chant of 'GO, GO GRYFFINDOR'. Madam Hooch was busy screaming at Crabbe and Goyle and she flew quickly over to Harry who was waiting by the Gryffindor goal hoops.

"Are you alright?" he asked as soon as she pulled up.

"Fine." She said, gasping slightly as she was still a bit winded.

"Dirty cheating scum." Ginny muttered. "I bet you anything he told them to do that."

"Oh I don't doubt it."

"He's trying to impress his Dad." Ron spat. "You realise that they knocked you straight at him. Look Daddy, here's a present."

"Well, what do you say we pay the ferret back by humiliating him and his team?" she asked the team, earning strong mutters of agreement. "Lets go thrash them into next week then." They all nodded, each of them with a steely, determined glint in their eyes before flying swiftly back to their positions.

She took her penalty, sending the Quaffle shooting through the middle goal hoop with ease; the Slytherin Keeper not even seeing where it went it was moving so fast. The game resumed after that and the Slytherin fouls kept on coming. Although it wasn't technically a foul, Emma took a nasty blow to the leg from a Bludger aimed by Crabbe. Goyle was also pulled up for the double offence of Blurting and Cobbing at the same time. He had locked broom handles with Ginny and, as she tried to pull her away, elbowed her repeatedly in the ribs. The crowd was in uproar and she distinctly heard Mrs Weasley shouting exactly what she was going to do to Goyle if she ever got hold of him. Kathryn laughed as she watched Mr Weasley trying to pacify his wife as Ginny took another penalty.

By far the worst foul, however, apart from Crabbe and Goyle's deliberate attempt to put Kathryn out of the game, was what Malfoy did barely twenty minutes after the foul against Ginny. She didn't see what happened but definitely felt it. Whilst she was chasing after one of the Slytherins with the Quaffle, Malfoy had grabbed Crabbe's reinforced bat and had flown straight after her. The next thing she knew, Kathryn felt the metal plates that reinforced the bat come crashing into contact with her shoulders and back several times in rapid succession. Knocked off balance, she desperately hung onto her broom handle with one hand as she plummeted towards the ground. There were screams from the crowd as, her shoulder screaming in pain, she managed to swing herself back onto her broom and narrowly missed colliding with the walls of the stands. The crowd was in uproar as she skidded along the grass of the pitch on her already sore back, Madam Hooch blowing her whistle furiously. Kathryn signalled for a time out and the rest of her team flew to the ground to see her.

"That cheating scum." She said through gritted teeth as she felt the damage to her shoulder. Thankfully, it did not feel broken or dislocated. There were some boos from the Slytherin crowd as she got back into the air, but they were drowned out by the cheers from everyone else. Hooch shouted at Malfoy for a good five minutes, giving Kathryn's shoulders a chance to recover before she flew up to take the penalty. Taking a quick look into the stands, she could see Lucius looking at his son in disgust; apparently not agreeing with his tactics. Kathryn remembered the conversation she had over heard between Lucius and Narcissa at Fudge's reception. It appeared that his mother had been happier for him to use such tactics than his father was.

Those who were there would, in years to come, hail the final half an hour as some of the best Quidditch ever played at Hogwarts; rivalling the days of the great James Potter and Charlie Weasley. For every foul Malfoy and his cronies inflicted upon them they responded, not with violence, shouting or fouls of their own, but with goals. She flew viciously, not unlike the way she had seen the Australian chasers do, and did not give up possession of the Quaffle unless it was to pass to Ginny or Emma. She did not care how many of the Slytherin chasers crashed into the sides of the stadium or, in some cases, their own team members; just as long as she reached the goal hoops.

For Harry, streaking round the pitch in search of the Golden Snitch, he could see how observing the Australian players had helped her game. She seemed to have a sixth sense that told her what was going to happen a second before it did; giving her time to avoid it and continue her sprint for the goal hoops. He could also see the desperation in the Slytherins eyes as they struggled to hold onto the Quaffle for more than ten seconds. By the time Harry caught the Snitch, after a side by side chase with Malfoy in which he came off the winner and Malfoy lay sprawled on the pitch, the score was three hundred and twenty points to one hundred and twenty; and that was without the extra one hundred and fifty points he gained.

The stadium exploded as Dean called out the final score of four hundred and seventy to Gryffindor and one hundred and twenty to Slytherin. That gave them a margin of three hundred and fifty points. Hermione came rushing onto the pitch to congratulate the seven of them before grabbing Ron and kissing him. Harry followed her lead and grabbed Ginny. He didn't care about the hundreds of people watching them, or the numerous giggles and wolf whistles that went through the crowd of cheering Gryffindors. Kathryn laughed as she watched them, although secretly disappointed. She wanted to be part of this little spectacle; kissing the person she loved in celebration. She thought this extremely imprudent, however, as the identity of the person she wanted to kiss would no doubt cause outrage amongst all surrounding them.

She spotted him in the stands as she lifted the shining Quidditch cup above her head in triumph. He gave her an almost imperceptible nod of congratulation, a more dignified acceptance of her win than that of his son who was standing at the edge of the pitch screaming at his team. She also caught his eyes and saw clearly the message he had written in them. I'll see you later too, she thought to herself as she was carried off the pitch on the shoulders of the rest of the Gryffindors.

She had been right in her predictions as to those people who would be staying in the castle for the party that night. Mr and Mrs Weasley were the first to head off after lunch; Mr Weasley having to return to work. Tonks followed next, also having to return to work. Lupin, Fred, George and Sirius were the only ones staying behind for the party that evening. True, the party had been going on all day since that match finished, but the night was when the fireworks came.

Fred and George had really excelled themselves this time. Catherine wheels whizzed around the grounds whilst lions ran through the night sky, actually roaring and having the words 'EAT DUNG SLYTHEIRN' coming out of their mouths. They stood outside and watched them for a long time before heading back inside to the seven crates of butterbeer that they had still to open. Sirius was telling them all about his glory days on the Gryffindor Quidditch team and how their dad had been the best Seeker he had ever seen. People listened in awe to his tales of previous matches and close finishes. A lot of people were quite awed by the fact that they had Sirius Black sitting in their common room, bearing in mind that the last time he had been here he had broken in and had tried to kill Scabbers whilst they slept. Of course everyone thought that he was trying to kill Harry and the pair of them were; after their explanation of his innocence, forced to explain all about Peter Pettigrew even though it had already been explained in the Prophet some years ago.

The party began to wind down at one; Professor McGonagall sternly telling them that they had to go to bed. In the crush to get to the dormitories she pulled out her bag from where she had stashed it beneath a sofa and whipped on the invisibility cloak behind a pillar in the corner.

"I'm going for a shower." She whispered to Hermione before walking off behind Professor McGonagall and slipping through the portrait hole after her.

The corridors were silent apart from the occasional bang issuing from Fred and George's fireworks and the sound of the suits of armour creaking. She did not even meet Mrs Norris on the way up to the seventh floor, an achievement in itself, and the corridor was also blissfully empty as she walked hurriedly along and pushed open the door that she was sure only she could see.

Inside, to her surprise, she found him already asleep; sprawled on top of the covers still wearing his shirt and trousers. Removing her cloak she slipped off her jeans and tunic style top to reveal the day's choice of skimpy underwear in, appropriately, the Gryffindor colours of reds with a smattering of gold.

"Well, we shall have to remedy this." She murmured to herself as she climbed up onto the bed next to him. Sitting astride him, but not putting her weight on him, she bent over him; her hair brushing against his face as she kissed him gently.

Her attention did not go unnoticed for long and soon he was up with her sat in his lap, her legs wrapped about his waist.

"Isn't your Godfather still here?" he asked her as he pulled off his shirt.

"Yes, but he's lying crashed out on a sofa in the common room and it's not like anyone else can get in here." She replied, sliding off his lap and moving teasingly away to the top of the bed where she slipped herself between the covers. As she had anticipated, he soon joined her; his eager hands tugging the scraps of lace that passed for underwear off her lithe, slightly bruised body. He was very attentive; obviously deciding that she deserved to be spoiled after winning her match. Carefully, he massaged her sides where she had hit the stands, his lips following his hands before he gently rolled her over onto her front. She heard the slight gasp as he caught sight of the five or six long, bat shaped bruises that were smattered across her right shoulder. They were light purple around the edges and a deep, bluish purple down the middle where her shoulder had taken the full force of the bat. He could even see some small marks from the bolts that held the reinforcing plates onto the wood.

She could see him smile as he sent her deeper and deeper into the throes of passion; the feeling of euphoria that coursed through her body surpassing even those that she had felt when they had finally won the match that afternoon.

Once their energy was spent and he rolled off her, she snuggled in close to his warm body and rested her head on his shoulder.

"I should go into professional Quidditch if that's what I'd get every time I win." She murmured sleepily.

"I trust you feel well and truly indulged. I would be most disappointed if my efforts were in vain."

"Oh you have spoiled me." She agreed, placing a light kiss on his shoulder. "I'm not sure if I will be able to make it back to Gryffindor tower." Glancing at the clock she saw that it was nearly three in the morning. "But I suppose I'll have to." She reached for her wand and, with a few lazy flicks; she had summoned her clothes to her and was pulling them on.

"Don't." He said simply, pulling her back down as she dressed and promptly removed her clothes again. "Stay with me a while."

"They'll miss me." She protested as his arms wrapped themselves around her.

"They're all asleep; you can stay another couple of hours."

"I've been gone since one," she reminded him, "they might miss me when there are more people to notice me gone."

"There is only your Godfather and he sounds like he isn't going to be getting up any time soon. Plus," he finished with a cheeky smile, "with such temptation I cannot understand how you even entertain the thought of leaving."

"Well," she shot back dryly, "I don't want to be caught for one thing."

"Who in Gryffindor tower is going to be awake at the time that you get in?"

"I can't be caught wandering the corridors!" she argued, pulling herself up again.

"You're the Head Girl," he reminded her, "I'm sure any teacher would turn a blind eye if they found their Head Girl out of bed early, especially seeing as she had won the Quidditch Cup the day before."

"Fine," she said in a defeated tone, flopping back down onto the bed, "you win." She turned over and snuggled into the covers. "Night."

"I wasn't planning on sleeping." He said in surprise.

"Well, I was." She replied shortly, getting her head comfortable on the pillows. "I have been awake since six this morning and am well past my tiredness threshold." She sighed. "I am grateful for your attention but the best thing you could do right now would be just to lie here with me and sleep." Silently, he sidled up behind her and pulled her round so that her head was resting against his shoulder, like it had done so many times before. They fell asleep like that, barely moving an inch until she bolted awake at half past five.

Checking the time on the clock, she pulled herself out of his grasp and haphazardly pulled on her clothes.

"Your winnings are on the table by the way." He motioned to a table against the wall where a large sack of galleons sat.

"Thanks, although I'd have thought you'd have learned that betting on the outcome with me is useless." She hefted the weighty sack into her bag and then muttered the charm to make the bag feather-light.

She gave him a long, lingering kiss goodbye before pulling on her invisibility cloak and checking her copy of the Marauder's Map to see if anyone was coming along the corridors. She had not yet used the map in front of him; deciding that it would not be good if he knew that such a tool existed. The corridor was empty so she slipped silently out and walked as quickly as she could back to Gryffindor tower. Flashes of light from the fireworks that still roamed the grounds lit her way as she walked; carefully avoiding Peeves who was loosening a candelabrum on the sixth floor.

Sirius was lying asleep on the sofa as she slipped through the portrait hole, ignoring the Fat Lady's protestations at being woken up and then her scolding for being out of bed so late, or rather, early. Predictably, Sirius jolted awake as she walked over to the stairs that led to her dormitory.

"Where've you been?" he said in a sleepy voice; fixing her with a probing stare. She carefully closed her mind to him before replying.

"For a shower." Sirius half smiled at her in his drowsy state. "And I wanted some time to myself."

"Ok, night." He murmured before replacing his head on his pillow and falling straight back to sleep. Kathryn was thankful that he thought it still night time, as opposed to early morning.

"Night." She whispered before climbing the stairs and sneaking through the dormitory door as quietly as possible. She, thankfully, did not wake Hermione and avoided having to explain why she had been gone so long. She crawled beneath the covers once she had pulled on his large white shirt and fell easily into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The rest of her sleep might have been dreamless but she woke up at around midday in excruciating pain. Lying on her front, she didn't dare move as every slight change in her position resulted in shooting pains up and down her back. Hermione was on top form and had Professors' McGonagall and Snape there in a trice along with Madam Pomfrey. Although it was agonising to move even a few inches she flatly refused to let them cut the shirt off and, slowly, with Hermione's help, she managed to prise the shirt off. Flushing brightly, as she was lying prone and naked in front of her best friend and teachers, she hoped that there was no visible sign of the previous night's escapades.

She remained still as a statue as Madam Pomfrey examined her back; the bruises that had been there the previous evening having gotten even worse and her back now an ugly purple mess. If she spotted the small bruising at the side of her neck when she lifted her hair out of the way, she said nothing.

"You should have come straight to me." She chided, spreading copious amounts of a thick pink salve on her back. "Now, I'm afraid you're going to have to lie there for quite a while. I can't have you moving and doing more damage.

Kathryn lay there for two whole hours until Madam Pomfrey returned and wrapped her in a cooling bandage from armpit to waist. This was followed by a diluted measure of Skele-Gro to repair the minor damage the bat had done to her spine. Whilst the pain relief was welcome, it was annoying not being able to move and have to talk to anyone that came up to see her. She was beginning to grow tired of explaining the match over and over again. Thankfully, the pain subsided after another night's rest and she was able to leave her bed. Being summer, the weather was glorious, and so necessitated the appropriate clothing. Consequently, the whole school got a nice look at the bruising on her back that peeked from beneath her summer vest tops.


	30. Chapter 30

A/N - Just a short chapter this time.

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Before they knew it, the exams they had jokily dubbed SKREWTS, were upon them and they had precious little time to enjoy themselves. Both Harry and Kathryn felt more at ease in their potions practical than they had ever been under Snape's instruction and managed to produce an antidote to the poison they were given without hassle. That, they assumed, was due to the fact that they did not have the greasy Potions Master breathing down their necks at every conceivable moment. They were also still on the euphoric high from their winning the Quidditch Cup and smashing the record for the longest held title, so they supposed that was also a help.

Defence against the Dark Arts went supremely well for the four of them. They even seemed to wow the examiners with some of their own counter-curses and jinxes that they had been working on. Transfiguration also went well, even though Kathryn accidentally left the family of swans she had transfigured from set of pillows with dark blue plumage before rectifying her mistake.

"Anything else, my dear, that you would like to show me?" the tiny Professor Tofty asked her at the end of the exam.

"Actually, there is Professor," she admitted, "but it must not leave this room." She was glad for the fact that the examination was being held in a single room.

"Go ahead." She nodded and stepped back from the desk. She saw Professor Tofty's eyes widen as the girl before him transformed into a wolf and then back into the girl.

"You have achieved Animagus transformation!" he squeaked. "That is certainly worth an extra point." He made a note before turning to look at her seriously. "You will make sure to register, won't you? There are severe penalties for those who do not."

"I fully intend to, Professor," she reassured him, "but I am sure you understand that any paper record of this ability would only endanger my life, given the current situation." She explained.

"My goodness yes." He nodded fervently. "Well, your secret is safe with me, now off you go, I'm sure you have lots to revise for."

"Thank you Professor." She left the room and hurried back up to Gryffindor tower.

Their last exam was their charms theory paper and then they were free. The four of them spilled out into the glorious sunshine along with the rest of their year.

"Free at last!" Ron cried as they settled themselves on the grass by the lake. "No more exams ever." He said with a relieved gasp, his hands playing with Hermione's hair.

"We'll still have a lot to do if we want to be Aurors though." Hermione reminded him.

"That's right, ruin my happiness with a few words." Ron grumbled.

"But that's why you love me." She told him with an impish look, resting her head on his shoulder.

"We still have work to do you know," Kathryn reminded them before they became too lost in each other to notice her speak, "if you hadn't forgotten, we have a ball to put on in just over a fortnight and we still have a lot to do."

"It can't be that hard." Harry said distractedly, noticing Ginny heading over.

"We have to organise the food, drinks, decoration, invitations, outdoor decoration, start time, finish time." She checked off the tasks on her fingers.

"Invitations?" Hermione gave her a quizzical look. "The whole school knows; we don't need to send invitations."

"I meant to the Governors, I feel like we have to invite them." Kathryn explained.

"Can we leave Lucius Malfoy off the list?" Harry asked hopefully as Ginny sat down next to him.

"Oh yes," she replied cynically, "because that won't look suspicious at all. No, I'm just issuing a general invitation; they're free to come if they want to."

"Well, with any luck he won't." Ginny said hopefully, stretching out onto the grass.

"And, if what Snape said is true, he might be coming with someone anyway." Hermione added in the same optimistic voice. "Unless of course said woman is a 'lady of the night' like Snape says she might be." Kathryn laughed at Hermione's careful avoidance of the word 'whore' but was also thankful of her unwillingness to so easily demean the woman. This also gave her a positive gauge of Hermione's possible reaction if she was discovered. Of course, Kathryn could not be so sure that Hermione would be so disposed to seeing the good in people when she found out that Lucius Malfoy's whore, as Snape put it, was one of her best friends.


	31. Chapter 31

A/N - The final grand deception. Done with style and grace, they play the parts they have grown accustomed to and no one bats an eyelash...or do they?

* * *

A fortnight passed all too quickly for their liking and the four of them spent the day of the ball shut up in the Great Hall with Ginny, Neville and Luna putting up decorations and organising the tables. They ate a lunch of sandwiches and iced pumpkin juice sat in the middle of the floor of the Great Hall. They had finished decorating the colossal room by mid afternoon, at which point Neville and Luna went outside to start work on creating the outdoor gardens that would fan out from the castle steps. Hermione, Kathryn, Harry, Ron and Ginny meanwhile stood around the large round table that was to be the top table and tried to work out place settings.

"Who needs to be on here?" Hermione asked as she paced around the table.

"Us, the Governors, Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall." Harry counted them off on his fingers. "That's four, plus twelve, plus two."

"Four, plus twenty four you mean; the Governors are all going to have partners." Hermione interrupted. "Add Dumbledore and McGonagall and you have thirty people."

"Don't forget me!" Ginny piped up indignantly. "I do believe that I am still going with Harry."

"Sorry Ginny, thirty one then." Hermione corrected her mistake. She waved her wand and thirty one chairs with deep purple upholstery appeared and arranged themselves around the table. The table also handily expanded until all the chairs fit comfortably.

"Ah the marvels of place settings." Ron said in a playfully wistful voice, picking up one of the cards and looking at it.

"Ah yes," Hermione said in a similar voice, "because we can put Lucius Malfoy as far away from you as possible." She said with glee, banishing his name card as far away from Kathryn's as she could. "And then an empty space for his whore." She placed a blank card next to it with a small laugh.

"Hermione," Kathryn said warily, "what about your jealousy theory?" she asked, Hermione having confided her theory in her after she had told Harry and Ron. "Wont this just put me at greater risk?"

"Yes, in the long run, but it is awfully fun to annoy him!" she giggled and finished placing the rest of the cards.

By five o'clock they had finished arranging comfortable armchairs in the Entrance Hall for the students to sit in whilst they waited for the ball to start. It also provided somewhere to sit later. They then set about stringing the beautiful garden that Neville and Luna had created with hundreds of real fairy lights and adding appropriate statues, benches and water features. After getting slightly lost in the myriad of hedge lined paths that Neville had constructed, Kathryn and Hermione rushed upstairs with just enough time to get showered and ready. Students, mainly boys that did not need to spend too much time getting ready, were already starting to mill around in the Entrance Hall and they gave the two girls funny looks as they streaked past in their scruffy jeans and t-shirt's.

Of course, by barely enough time to get ready, they still had two hours. This afforded them enough time to shower and wash their hair. Hermione had already hung her dress over the door of her wardrobe so, when they got back to the common room, she could pull it on straight away and allow Kathryn to sort her hair out. She pinned Hermione's hair back slightly but left enough space for it to fall in graceful, carefully controlled waves down her back. She then added a hint of blush to her cheeks and a dusting of dark blue eye shadow to match the tone of her midnight blue gown. It was then Kathryn's turn.

She pulled a large white box out of her trunk and undid the gold ribbon that held the two halves together. Peeling back the now familiar layers of tissue and silk she found one of the most elegant gowns she had ever seen. It was a deep, smouldering red; with thick straps that slouched off her shoulders and a dramatically plunging back that finished at the small of her back. It was very floaty; crafted from many layers of silk chiffon and with a very ethereal quality. Hermione gasped as Kathryn slipped the gown over her head and let the fabric tumble into place.

"Another anonymous gift?" she said with a questioning look as Kathryn adjusted it so it sat properly.

"Yes." Kathryn sighed. "But when I get things as beautiful as this I'm not going to complain." She turned away from Hermione so that she could help her lace up the back. There was the tiniest bit of nearly invisible lacing right bellow the small of her back and, as Hermione pulled it tight, she felt the front of the dress constrict as if it were a corset. She was shocked by this clever trick but glad that it would keep the dress from crumpling at the front.

"Thanks, now go." She told Hermione. "I'll be down in ten minutes or so. Meet me in the Entrance Hall." Hermione nodded and disappeared out the door. Once she was gone, Kathryn locked the heavy oak door and dug within her dresser for a small bag with the words 'Agent Provocateur' running across it in fancy lettering. She had not wanted Hermione to see her changing her plain underwear for something that, in Hermione's eyes, was complete unnecessary for the occasion. She also used a lace belt to hold up her silk stockings before slipping her feet into a pair of dangerously high shoes.

She affixed the same diamond necklace that he had given her last Christmas around her neck, adding the bracelet and earrings, before rummaging within her trunk for one final time. From here she produced a large black velveteen box with a small lock on the front. She opened it with a flick of her wand and gazed down at the contents. It had arrived a few days before when she had been sitting in the common room reading. She had carefully concealed the package from any prying eyes and hurried back up to her dormitory. Her mind coming back to the moment, she realised that her stomach was clenched tight. She wasn't sure if she could pull off wearing this without causing a complete fuss.

Taking a deep breath she removed the item from its box and tentatively set it on her head. She turned to look at her reflection and gasped in shock. She had considered tiaras to be slightly old fashioned, but this, this was perfect. It gave an old piece a modern, bold look. It was constructed with three rows of perfectly cut square diamonds. The rows only varied in length by the tiniest amount; starting with the longest at the bottom and getting smaller from there on. However, instead of having an undignified step effect where the row ended, the skilled craftsmen had made sure that they had some jewels cut at an angle to ensure a graceful slope downwards. Adjusting her hair and giving herself a final once-over she swept out of the dormitory and headed quickly to the Entrance Hall.

The corridors were very empty as she walked down to the Entrance Hall; most of the school having already arrived. It was so deserted, in fact, that the first people she encountered were the students milling around the top of the staircase and nothing could have prepared her for their reaction.

Down in the Entrance Hall Harry, Ron, Ginny and Hermione were standing waiting for Kathryn to arrive so they could commence the festivities. All around them students were laughing and chattering; many of them excited at the prospect of going to their first ball and other lamenting the fact that they would not be returning to the castle next year. The Governors had arrived and were waiting in an antechamber off the hall until the rest of the school made their way into the Great Hall.

"I wish Kathryn would hurry up," Hermione fussed, "it's nearly seven!"

The four of them did not notice the door to the room where the Governors were waiting open slightly, nor did they see the man that stood in the doorway. Lucius Malfoy swept his gaze across the crowds of assembled students, searching for the one person he had been looking forward to seeing. His eyes could find no trace of the raven haired beauty, she was not even with her friends, and he was about to return inside when a series of small gasps and flurried muttering emanated from the top of the large staircase.

At the back of the crowd on the staircase, Kathryn pretended not to notice the several shocked gasps that escaped the girls' mouths and walked slowly forwards. Instead of having to push her way through as she had expected, the crowd slowly began to part; leaving her a clear path down the stairs. She could not fail to notice the curious eyes that swept over the tiara and necklace she wore before moving to ogle at her dress.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny had also noticed this commotion and, along with many of the students waiting in the Entrance Hall, turned to see what it was. Harry thought that they were at least making way for someone like Dumbledore, McGonagall or Snape, but who actually descended the stairs shocked him.

Standing in the shadow of the doorway, he stared at the figure now gracefully descending the stairs. She did not walk, she more floated down the stairs; holding herself perfectly as she passed the droves of staring students. Her dress flowed elegantly down the smooth curves of her body, only enhancing her otherworldly appearance. The jewels about her wrist, neck and head glinted in the torchlight and he slipped further into the shadows as the light bounced across his features. He was sure that he saw her give a slight nod of her head as their eyes met for a fleeting moment before she turned to find her friends in the crowd.

The temptation to stride out and wait at the foot of the stairs for her was so great; she looked like a princess, the diadem that sat on her head only completed this effect. She had a natural majesty about her that belied the purity of her blood. Of course, this came in handy as no one would dare question her heritage once she was on his arm. Of course, the other thing that delighted him about the stir her appearance caused was the many pairs of male eyes that followed her every move whilst ignoring their partners. This amused him greatly, for, stare they might and lament not asking her, one thing was certain; she was all his.

He considered his image of her as a princess for a moment, unsure if it was correct. To be sure, she was adorned in all the finery of a princess, but there was nothing delicate or prim about the way she looked. Princesses he had seen before, especially Muggle ones, were demure and always dressed in fairly neutral, pale colours which was a complete contrast to what was before him. She seemed to smoulder in the dim candlelight; eclipsing everyone else in the room.

Kathryn could not understand why everyone was looking at her as she walked over to her friends; it wasn't as if they had never seen her before. She pretended to ignore them, keeping her gaze fixed on Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione as she cut a swathe through the assembled students towards them.

"Wow." Harry gasped as she came up to them. "You look amazing!"

"Thanks!" she said with a smile. "I haven't overdone it, have I?" she asked the four of them with a wary smile and nodding at the people who had been staring.

"Definitely not," Hermione said indignantly, "they're just jealous."

"Yeah," Ron agreed quickly, "bet they're wishing they'd asked you now, eh?" Kathryn didn't get a chance to reply as a gong sounded and the doors to the Great Hall swung open. There was a sudden rush to get through the doors and none of the students, in their haste, noticed the door to the antechamber open and a large group of people make their way out.

"Oh Merlin, they're here." Hermione said in an undertone as she spotted them. "And he still has the nerve to show his face." She nodded her head discretely in the direction of Lucius Malfoy who was standing at the back of the group. "Hmm." She mused. "I see that he hasn't brought his piece of fluff along with him."

"Probably not fitting to bring a whore to an official function." Harry said maliciously.

"Well, if you're not feeling up to it," Kathryn interrupted in a business-like tone, "I'll greet them if you want."

"I think we can cope with shaking a few hands." Hermione said sarcastically, a look of mock consideration on her face before striding towards the group.

She was quite surprised at the informality of their greeting. With Harry, Ron and Hermione, they had shaken hands in a fairly formal manner. When she reached the first governor, she was startled to find a friendly kiss being planted on her cheek before a caring voice enquired after how she was feeling. Each one of the other Governors greeted her in this way; the women giving her a motherly look and earnestly enquiring after her wellbeing. As she walked towards him she became acutely aware of her friends' eyes watching her. She knew what had to come; it was just that she was worried that he would forget himself.

Time seemed to slow as she felt his warm hand touch her left elbow and his lips brushed against her right cheek for longer than they really should have. She was glad for this, although careful not to show it, as it gave her the chance to whisper in his ear.

"Ask me now." She whispered urgently as her cheek touched his. "And don't forget to make a show of it." She discretely allowed her lips to sweep across his cheek as he pulled away.

"A pleasure to see you again Miss Potter." He said silkily. "I do hope I find you well."

"Perfectly," she replied with a smile, "it is a pleasure to see you again too." He gave her a small smirk, his eyes clearly showing that he had other things on her mind when he looked at her.

"And who, might I enquire," he spoke casually; as if he was just making conversation, whilst the other Governors talked to her friends, "is escorting you this evening?" out of the corner of her eye she saw Harry, Ron and Hermione turn their heads sharply to look at the pair of them. "For I count only five of you and," his mouth curved back into its familiar smirk, "there should be six if Mr Weasley is escorting Miss Granger and your brother is escorting Miss Weasley." She knew what was coming and she could do nothing to stop it; not that she wanted to of course. She made a point of shooting Harry an anguished look before turning back to look at the man before her.

"That's correct." She confirmed in a stiff voice.

"Surely you cannot be without a partner again?" he said in disbelief. "Not when such beauty stands before them."

"Thank you for your flattery, but I do not think others see it that way." Small patches of pink appeared, unbidden, on her cheeks as she spoke.

"It will not do for you to be unaccompanied when you look so fine." She could feel her cheeks flush even more. He had to admire how good an actress she was; her polite smile and the unbidden blushing of her cheeks only added to the elaborate illusion he was creating.

"Thank you," she repeated, the sudden flush of colour draining from her cheeks, "but I do not really mind."

"Unless," he paused, as if considering something, "would you grant me the honour of escorting you to the ball?" he asked. "As you can see, I am similarly unaccompanied." Harry, Ron and Hermione all watched her out of the corner of their eyes as they waited to hear her answer. She looked him up and down, as if appraising his worthiness as a partner before shooting her friends an 'I can't really refuse' look.

"Of course." She replied with a smile; earning her a smirk that held the promise of much more.

"You do me a great honour." He gave her a small bow and touched her hand to his lips before offering her his arm.

"Well, we'd best be getting in." Hermione said quickly, eager to talk to Harry, Ron and Ginny alone. "We'll see you inside." Kathryn gave her a nod before they disappeared through the doors to the Great Hall.

"You look absolutely magnificent." He purred in her ear as soon as they were gone.

"Well, I believe I have you to thank for that." she replied in the same hushed tone as they got into position before the doors.

"Would I have you look anything else?"

"I guess not, it did cause quite a stir though." She commented with a mischievous smile.

"And so you should; dressed as you are." He dismissed her worry at causing a fuss. "If you'll remember," he slid his fingers over the ruby ring that still adorned her hand, "I settle for nothing but the best." In a lightning fast movement, when he was sure no one was looking, he brought that hand up and planted a soft kiss on it.

In a similar fashion to the last ball, they entered in procession; only this time in their couples and not in separate groups. She could feel the many hundreds of pairs of eyes flick straight to her as she entered last. She could again see the whispered conversation that this sparked; most of them wondering what the famous Kathryn Potter was doing on the arm of the infamous Lucius Malfoy. Unlike last time, however, she did not feel at all uncomfortable on his arm and wore a very real smile on her face as they walked to the top table. She could see that Hermione had done some very quick spell work; as there were now only thirty seats at the table and her place had been moved next to Mr Malfoy's.

She expertly ignored the murderous looks that Draco Malfoy was shooting at her all the way through dinner. She also paid no heed to the scandalised looks that Pansy Parkinson, along with her usual gaggle of Slytherin girls, was managing to find the time to give her at least three times a minute. Instead she set about playing the part that Harry, Ron and Hermione believed her to be. She was careful to flash him a large smile every so often and accidentally brush her hand against his when she reached for the gravy boat. Hermione saw this careful attempt to gratify his unspoken desires, marvelling at her best friend's capacity for deceit; the demure smile and a false seductive glimmer in her eyes apparently working perfectly.

The house elves had really managed to excel themselves and Kathryn reminded herself to buy Dobby about twelve pairs of socks to say thanks, and maybe another tea cosy to keep his ears warm in winter. She felt better than she had done last year too; simply for the fact that her friends were sat at the table with her and she did not feel so alone. She was also, she assumed, more at ease when she was beside him; although she had to work hard to conceal those thoughts from Dumbledore's piercing blue eyes.

The orchestra began to play once their stupendous banquet had finished and the tables had been cleared to the side with a wave of Dumbledore's wand.

"And let us now dance and be merry." He announced to the silent hall. "Because, as our Head Boys and Girls would like to remind us, we all need to enjoy ourselves for a little while; despite the current circumstances."

She accepted his hand as the rest of their table stood up to dance and was ready to have him take her in his arms and whisk her around the dance floor. Only he did not. True, he did dance casually with her for a little while, if only to whisper a few words in her ear.

"Follow me." His voice was barely audible and she had not time to question his motives before he had disappeared through the doors leading back out into the Entrance Hall. She waited a few moments, not wanting it to look as if they were leaving together, before slipping, unnoticed, into the Entrance Hall.

He was nowhere to be seen in the Entrance Hall and she quickly headed out the main doors to find him standing at the bottom of the stairs with his arm outstretched; asking her to join him. She did not refuse, no one refused Lucius Malfoy, and within moments she was at his side. Arm in arm they walked through Neville's beautiful garden. Roses wound through the tall hedges and the light flickered as the fairies fluttered in the trees; it was truly beautiful and she was sure that Snape would be stalking through here later blasting away the bushes that concealed kissing couples.

She gave a slight gasp as they reached a fairly large central courtyard. She had not come here when she had placed the lights, Hermione had done this bit. It was completely concealed by tall, thick green hedges with winding white roses snaking through them. The central feature was a tall, elegant weeping willow with lights hung to follow the downwards path of the branches; giving the impression that it had tiny luminous leaves.

"Not bad, Neville, not bad." She murmured to herself as they stood in the courtyard. The sky was tinged with deep pink from the setting sun and she could just see stars starting to appear. The music from the castle stopped for a moment before recommencing. It was a soft, reflective tune that only seemed to make the courtyard more beautiful.

"Dance with me." He whispered silkily, his hand stroking down her exposed back. She nodded, moving closer as one hand took hers and the other settled on the small of her back. He slowly began to move, guiding her around gracefully; glad that he did not have to worry about other people watching as she placed her head on his shoulder. Their pace slowed even more until they were merely moving in a small circle; her body pushed close against his. Too entranced with each other to notice anything, they did not see the face peering round the hedge. Had they seen him, they would have recognised him as one of the Governors, the chair in fact.

He had come out to look for Mr Malfoy as he was nowhere in the Great Hall. He had not expected to find him like this; arguing politics with Miss Potter on a walk through the gardens maybe, but dancing? He had certainly never seen the man act like this before. His usual cold, arrogant exterior seemed to have been removed and he was looking at the girl who was dancing with him in adoration. He made a mental note to corner Lucius later, knowing that such feelings on his part could be dangerous considering his history and the fact that the girl was not yet out of school. True, she was of age, but there were certain boundaries that should not be crossed. For the moment, however, he left the pair of them to their dance; after all, he could be wrong and it would be embarrassing to interrupt.

It was a good thing for them that he chose to turn his back at that moment. As the music finished and the last notes drifted to their ears he steered them beneath the canopy of the willow and, as the sky darkened around them, sought out her lips with his own. It was a gentle, clandestine kiss with neither party overwhelming the other; an expression of love rather than desire. They stood there for a little while longer; taking pleasure in holding each other until they heard the distant voices of other students making their way into the gardens. Walking quickly, but not fast enough the arouse suspicion, they made their way quickly back towards the castle; the pair of them taking separate routes, ensuring that they entered the Great Hall at least five minutes apart. She immediately headed for Harry, Ron and Hermione who were deep in conversation at the top table whilst the rest of the Governors cornered Mr Malfoy.

"We should have known he'd do that." Hermione hissed as soon as she sat down. "Why didn't we think to find you a partner?"

"I wouldn't have gone with anyone you suggested anyway Hermione," Kathryn chided her friend, "surely you know me better than that."

"Well, yes, sorry." Hermione apologised, knowing that Kathryn would never go anywhere with anyone unless she had chosen to do so herself.

"Besides," she gave them a cheeky smile, "he is quite handsome!"

"Did you hit your head?" Ron asked in disbelief. "Or have I hit mine? I didn't just hear you say you thought Lucius Malfoy was handsome, did I?"

"Well he is." Kathryn said with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders, looking across the room at him. "But don't start to think I sympathise with him or anything; the only reason I said yes was duty. To school and to the Order."

"Well, just keep him happy; he'll be in Azkaban soon enough so he might as well enjoy what life he has left." Harry muttered with an evil look in his eye.

"Yes, soon enough…" Kathryn tailed off, her eyes fixed on the blond man who was now talking earnestly with the chair of the Governors.

"Are you sure what you're doing is wise?" Mr Whitford asked the man before him, the haughty manner now firmly back in place.

"Am I sure what is wise?" he answered in a curt tone, ignoring the fact that on the Governing body, technically, the small, balding man before him was his superior. Of course, little technicalities like that had never stopped him from getting his way. His eyes flicked over to where Kathryn was sitting with her brother and friends.

"She is a fine young woman to be sure; intelligent, beautiful, caring. I'm sure many men would fight for the right to claim her as their own." Mr Whitford spoke again, looking also in the direction of Kathryn.

"I don't doubt it. Many will fall victim to the idea that she should be flattered at their offers; fortunate that they have chosen her."

"Why would that be?"

"They will be the ones that don't understand that she will choose and that they should be honoured at her even deigning to show them interest." He spoke confidently; remembering the many young women that had, before he'd married Narcissa, vied for his attentions. They had all been beautiful, social butterflies that had all wanted to make the most advantageous marriage. "And she will only marry someone she deems to be her equal."

"That seems rather conceited, for a girl of her age." Mr Whitford seemed less than convinced.

"It is what she deserves; mutual respect and love. There will be many that seek her out for her fame and connections and not for her own merits." The tone of his voice indicated the end to that discussion. "I do not believe there to be many worthy of her hand."

"Well, she is an exceptional choice, to be sure," Mr Whitford paused, as if unsure of whether to say what was on his mind, "but is she aware of your intentions?" he asked in a more earnest tone, looking pointedly at the seated figure of Miss Potter.

"Intentions?" Mr Malfoy asked in, what he hoped, was a confused tone. "I assure you that I have none, but I would agree with you that she is indeed an admirable choice for any man."

"Oh come now Lucius." The balding man said in a thoroughly unconvinced tone. "I saw you with her in the gardens before; your spur-of-the-moment decision to ask her to the ball was not so spontaneous maybe?" Whitford raised a questioning eyebrow. "Had you always intended to ask her but just felt it inappropriate to do so in advance?"

"I have no more designs on the Potter girl than you do," he said in a clam, clipped tone; anger flaring in his cold grey eyes, "and I would suggest that you hold your tongue with any further accusations unless you want to invite trouble."

"Forgive me, Lucius, I was only enquiring." He apologised hastily to the tall blond man; he most certainly did not want to invite the kind of trouble Lucius Malfoy could bring.

"If you are looking for an explanation as to what you saw in the gardens, that was merely two people brought together by loss and grief. I came upon her in Diagon Alley on the day after the news of her foster parents' deaths reached her. The poor girl was distraught; she damn near collapsed in Flourish and Blott's she was so distressed. I got her out and took her for some tea in Tavington's, where the prying eyes cannot get in for love or money." He spoke confidently, completely convincing the balding, reedy man before him, almost convincing himself. "We talked for a long time. I can offer understanding, not just a sympathetic face, you see." His tone was final.

"I see." Comprehension dawned on Mr Whitford's face. "Well, if you'll excuse me," he bowed to Malfoy, who did not return it, "I apologise if I offended you Lucius." He scurried off into the crowd and Lucius resumed his observation of the young girl now walking down the opposite side of the hall to him. It was not as if he hadn't already considered what Mr Whitford had said, but there were certain bridges that would have to be crossed before anything like that could ever come to pass. Unconcerned about his colleague's near dangerous observations he set off in the opposite direction to catch her before she reached the doors.

Kathryn was very aware of his approach as they got closer and closer to the doors; she felt like she was being hunted thanks to the predatory look that gleamed in his eyes. Harry was, at that point, in the middle of one of his familiar rants about how Lucius Malfoy was such a scumbag.

"Harry shut up." She whispered in an abrupt tone as he came within hearing distance before turning on her smile. He gave the five of them a small bow before speaking directly to her.

"I was wondering if I might claim your hand for the next, Miss Potter?" he asked in his usual silky tone as the music stopped. "Unless, of course, you are otherwise occupied."

"Of course not," she smiled at him, shooting the four of them an apologetic look, before taking the arm that he offered, "I'd be delighted." He gave her a small smile before sweeping her away from her friends and into the middle of the dance floor.

She relaxed into his touch as soon as they began to waltz amongst the other couples. She did see Harry shooting him a few venomous looks before heading off with Ron, Hermione and Ginny. She could understand his anger as the waltz was, basically, an expression of desire and that was exactly what Harry didn't want.

"Did you see that article in the Prophet?" she asked casually as he swept her past Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall and his son and Pansy Parkinson.

"Ah yes, 'Potter for politics', quite an interesting read if I remember." He gave a small chuckle. "It's funny to think of Fudge being able to construct such a convoluted scheme."

"I most certainly hope not, otherwise I have wasted my affections." She said with a small pout, languidly running a finger down his neck when she was sure no one was looking their way.

"Believe me, I am not acting on Fudge's orders." He whispered silkily in her ear. "Although I wouldn't put it past the man to ask." She laughed before noticing something else.

"Your son is staring." She told him, barely moving her lips as she spoke. "Can he find nothing better to do?"

"He's just jealous." He whispered back. "He has to settle for a pug-nosed partner whilst his father gets to have the most beautiful woman in the room. It's enough to make any man wild with envy." She laughed and ignored the petulant Draco.

The dance ended but, instead of letting go of her arm, he took her with him as he went to talk to his Governor colleagues. They all took the chance to question her on Quidditch, her exams and her plans for after Hogwarts; many of them offered to put in words for her with various officials they knew.

"Not that you need it though!" one of them chuckled.

She finally was offered respite when Ron came over and asked her to dance. She accepted and followed him over to where Harry, Ginny and Hermione were standing.

"Thanks." She breathed a sigh of relief at being able to talk to her friends once more. "Let's get outside before he can get me again." the four of them followed her into the cool evening air and into the myriad of paths before they reached the centre. There were quite a few students in the gardens but none of them had ventured into the central courtyard; preferring to remain in the shadows with their partners.

"He makes me so angry!" she exclaimed once they were beneath the cover of the willow tree. "Being so nice all of the bloody time!" she knew that he would be impressed with her apparently enraged appearance. "It's all I can do to stop myself from hexing him into oblivion every time he gives me that foul smirk." She slammed her fist into the trunk of the tree before regaining her composure and looking at them. "Sorry about that."

"I don't blame you." Ginny told her with a sympathetic look. "But don't fret, there's only three hours left."

"Three hours is a long time when you've got someone like him to cope with." She said in a cynical tone.

"You could have said no." Harry offered.

"I couldn't refuse." She sighed, unable to explain the true hold he had on her. "I had no logical or acceptable reason to say no. And I wasn't going to just pluck someone from the crowd who didn't have a partner and go with them. If I'd done that I would be dancing with Crabbe or Goyle." They all laughed at the idea of anyone wanting to dance with the hulking, boulder-like Crabbe and Goyle. "And even slimy Lucius Malfoy is better than that pair."

"Have you managed to get anything from him?" Hermione asked earnestly. "About what's coming next, I mean."

"Not a Knut." She told her friends with a sigh. "I wish I was a Legilimens so I could just peruse his mind at leisure."

"Well, we've got double-o-Snape for that, haven't we?" Hermione reminded them.

"Yes, although I'd bet my Firebolt that Malfoy is prepared for that. I'm not sure that trust for Snape is running high in the Death Eater camp; Voldemort may trust him but I'm sure that there are those who don't. Bellatrix Lestrange for one."

"Well, I'm sure Voldemort will be sending us a clue as to what he has planned soon enough." Harry muttered.

"So long as he is direct and to the point I don't mind." Kathryn shrugged her shoulders. "It's the confusing dreams that get me and the ones where he only lets you see enough to get you curious." Suddenly a wry, cool voice interrupted their conversation.

* * *

A/N - There are a few songs that I imagine here which just gives an idea of the atmosphere.

When she walks down the stair and people part for her, I can hear 'Awakening' from the Sleeping Beauty soundtrack; just the bit near the end when Aurora and Philip walk down the stairs.

When they are danding in the gardens I think the song 'Closer' by Beady Belle really captures the moment.


	32. Chapter 32

A/N - Snape gets rather too curious for her liking, and Hermione sees something she shouldn't.

* * *

"Now what do we have here?" the five of them spun around to see the hook-nosed figure of Snape standing beyond the veil of leaves. "Ah yes," he sneered as they walked out, all of them glaring at him defiantly, "I should have expected it."

"We're just talking." Harry snapped. "There aren't rules against that now, are there?"

"Or has Umbridge taken over again?" Kathryn asked with a raised eyebrow and a smirk that forcibly reminded Snape of Lucius Malfoy.

"No." Snape regarded them coolly. "But I would have thought that you would take more care about where you discuss such sensitive subjects."

"Fine." Harry turned on his heel and stalked off back to the castle, followed by the rest of them.

"Miss Potter," Snape called before they could all get away, "a word if you please." Kathryn waved them on ahead of her before turning back to her Professor. She made sure that she had blocked her mind before she reached him; preferring that he did not see what her mind had to tell.

"Yes Professor?" she gave him a questioning look.

"The game you and your friends are playing is a dangerous one, especially for you."

"Game, sir?" she pretended to be politely confused.

"Lucius Malfoy is not a man to be toyed with; he is powerful, dangerous and always gets what he wants."

"I am sorry Professor," she shook her head, "I am playing no such game. I am merely trying to ensure that he does not try to remove Headmaster Dumbledore at every conceivable point, and if that means dancing and playing nice, I will gladly do it." She turned and swept off. "Thank you for your concern anyway." She added before heading back to the castle steps.

"What did he want?" Ron asked as she sat down with them back in the Great Hall.

"Warning me off Malfoy." She explained. "Says it's a dangerous game that I shouldn't be playing."

"And what did you say?" Hermione asked.

"I told him, in polite terms of course, to sod off because I know what I'm doing." She laughed, taking a sip of a glass of red wine.

"Well, he can talk." Ginny scoffed, twisting a finger in Harry's hair. "The games he's been playing, I'd say Lucius Malfoy is a pretty small fish in comparison."

Snape, however, did not seem so easily satisfied by her explanation. Barely half an hour later, she found herself again being accosted by the Greasy Bat of the Dungeons. Her only problem was that she was standing talking to some of the Governors with Lucius and she could not snap at him to go away.

"Lucius." She heard Snape say silkily to the man beside her. "I wonder if I might steal your partner for a moment?" Lucius raised his eyebrows apprehensively before nodding.

"Certainly." Her arm was passed to Snape and, with a curious look back, she was swept away.

"What are you doing?" she hissed at Snape as he led her onto the dance floor and placed a callused hand on her waist.

"Dancing, Potter." He gave her a wry smirk as he gracefully led her round the dance floor. "I assumed you would have realised that."

"Excuse my bluntness," she retorted instantly, "but have you hit your head?" she asked in a curt tone. Snape looked momentarily stunned at the lack of her usual respectful tone that she took with all the teachers.

"What?" anger flared instantly in his obsidian eyes.

"Have you injured yourself and cannot remember who you are?" she asked with a smirk playing across her features. "The Professor Snape I know would never bring himself to dance with a student. Or have you decided that now is the time to change your image?"

"The Lucius Malfoy I know would never stoop to dancing with someone he perceived beneath him, let alone choose them as his partner."

"I should have known you wouldn't have let it drop." She sighed.

"Lucius Malfoy is a very dangerous man."

"So I've been told." She shot back.

"You cannot imagine the things he could do to you." Snape warned.

"I'll try, I'm sure what I've heard will be enough to inspire my imagination."

"The stories you hear are from the times when his wife was alive." Snape corrected her. "He was more," he paused, searching for the right word, "reserved, if you can even call it that."

"What's your point?"

"He always stopped short of rape."

"And that is supposed to interest me how?" she played disinterested, hoping that he would reveal more to her the more exasperated she made him.

"He left that to the depraved likes of Dolohov and Rabastan Lestrange; I always thought the he saw it as a betrayal of his wife. He would have his fun torturing them and would then allow the others to work. Now, however, with his wife dead…" his voice trailed off, allowing her to form her own conclusions.

"I still see little danger if I am here, Professor."

"Do you have any idea what he will do to you?" Snape hissed in her ear. "I have seen him work, Miss Potter, and I'll tell you that he likes to keep his prey alive as long as possible."

"I wonder why you say this when I am perfectly safe here?" she knew she was annoying him, of course she understood what he could do, but it was fun to watch him try and control his anger.

"Life seems to throw you into situations where he is, inevitably, likely to be. Where you are away from the protection this castle offers."

"I still fail to see the reason you trouble yourself over this."

"Stop playing stupid." He spat angrily. "Because you are not."

"I'm sorry, was that a compliment?" she replied in the same acerbic tone he used with his students.

"Do you know what he'll do to you?" he growled so no one else could hear. "Can you even imagine what he, if given the chance, can bring himself to doing?"

"I already told you that my imagination was sufficiently equipped to do so, Professor." Her tone was curt and, although she did not show it, she was growing more uncomfortable by the minute. She was too focused on keeping her mind concealed from his unrelenting stare.

"The touch of a jealous and cruel man is a lot different to that of one in love." The grip of his callused hand on her back was unrelenting and she found herself unable to pull away. "He will not care about your age and nor will he shy away from causing you pain."

"I wouldn't doubt that."

"You make light of it now, Potter, but you will swiftly change your tune when you cannot escape him." He seemed to smirk at the thought. "I doubt that the rumours that have spread around the school about you are true. I suspect that whilst your brother and friends have given in to their raging hormones, you have not."

"What are you implying?" she asked, anger permeating her voice.

"You may not think I would notice the goings on in your trivial lives, but you have been unattached since half way through fifth year."

"I would hardly call my life trivial."

"My point is that I doubt you would have allowed the morons that have tried to attach themselves to you to touch you in ways he would."

"I would rather not discuss this with you, Professor." She tried in vain to escape, finding it harder to keep her mental walls up.

"You would rather not discuss." He looked at her pensively. "Does that mean he's had you already?" he whispered silkily in her ear.

"How dare you." She whispered back, her eyes burning with rage. "What in Merlin's name makes you think me possible of such a thing?"

"Your full throated defence only serves to make me even more suspicious." He let a hand graze past her cheek and neck. "Why do you hide your mind so fiercely?" she shuddered at his touch.

"Well, your apparent murder of Professor Dumbledore made us suspicious too." She shot back in a caustic, unforgiving tone. "And because I have the right to keep my mind from unwanted invasion."

"Fine." He let go of her as the song ended and she made to stalk angrily away. As an afterthought, he grabbed her wrist before she was completely out of his reach and yanked her back towards him. "But do not blame me for not giving you any warning."

"Do not worry yourself over that, Professor; I will not hold you responsible." She pulled her arm free of his grasp and stalked off in a swish of red skirt and twinkling diamonds. "It's just that your warning came two years too late." She muttered to herself as she walked back to where he was standing.

As the night progressed, she spent a lot of her time on the dance floor; dancing with many of the boys in her year even though she felt slightly insulted that none of them had seen fit to ask her. True, she would have said no, but she still would have liked to have at least been asked. Of course, she danced with him, and it was then that she felt most at ease. He had the ability to move perfectly and was able to set her senses on fire with the lightest of touches. None of this was betrayed, however, over the course of the evening. Apart from one moment.

She could sense his impatience by the time it reached eleven o'clock and was glad that there was only an hour left for him to wait. Standing on the edge of the floor talking to Luna Lovegood she suddenly felt a hand on her elbow. She turned to see him holding his hand out to her, asking her to dance. She was about to take it when she realised that there were no other couples dancing. The music was soft but seemed to be building very slightly, as if giving a clue as to what may come. She shook her head timidly, feeling a small flush of embarrassment rise in her cheeks as she did so. In response, he raised his eyebrows and gave her a pleading look for an instant. She shook her head again but took his hand all the same and allowed him to lead her out to the centre of the dance floor. He was impressed by the clever little charade she had acted as he took her in his arms; the shy young girl feeling slightly awkward at being asked to dance alone.

Naturally, she relaxed in moments as he moved her slowly around the floor.

"People are staring." She murmured as they danced.

"I know, let them watch." His apparent lack of concern worried her.

"This is dangerous."

"Live a little." He gave her a small smirk. She did not have the chance to reply as the music abruptly sped up into a much more passionate dance. She forgot the many pairs of curious eyes as she let him move her with the music. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny, who had been sitting at the edge of the hall, were distracted from their conversation by the large crowd encircling the dance floor. Peering through the sea of heads, Harry could make out the distinguishable blond hair and red dress that was his sister and Lucius Malfoy. Harry cringed at the embarrassment Kathryn would be feeling at being made to dance in front of everyone. He pushed closer to get a better view. The music was getting faster and faster, more and more passionate until it stopped and only the violins played a long, quavering note backed by a drum beat. Here, his sister spun round for the entirety of that note; her dress flying elegantly out around her legs before he pulled her back to his chest. After this the music reached its peak and, looking into his eyes, Kathryn could feel the passion and desperation of the music that seemed to reflect on their situation.

By this point nearly everyone in the hall was clapping along with the racing beat of the music, making the music even more passionate than it had been before. When the melody finally stopped, this turned into raucous applause for the pair in the middle who were now very close. One of his hands was splayed across her back whilst one of her arms was draped around his neck and a leg twisted slightly around one of his. Not taking his gaze off hers, he gave her a small smile, before stepping back, bowing to her, and bringing her hand to his lips. She returned his smile as people flooded back onto the dance floor once the music started again. A slight blush creeping onto her cheeks, she headed over to the nearest table where there were full glasses of red wine waiting. She drank half of it quickly before walking purposefully towards the doors and out into the gardens for fresh air.

Scouring the hall for her, he caught a glimpse of the hem of a red dress disappearing around the door and followed quickly. He found her leaning on the stone balustrade of the steps, sipping her wine and looking out into the night. Her face was contemplative and he knew that their thoughts were exactly the same. This was possibly the last time they would see each other. The next time they met they would be probably be locking wands on some distant battleground.

"A galleon for your thoughts?" he asked softly as she sipped the last of her wine.

"My thoughts are worth more than that!" she responded playfully, vanishing her empty glass with a wave of her wand. "But I will humour you." She walked further down the steps and into the garden. "It's coming soon, isn't it?" he merely nodded in response. "We thought so."

"I take it that it is the prospect of facing death that depresses you."

"I think not." She retorted." I have looked death in the face before, I am certainly not afraid."

"Then why the glum face?"

"What bothers me is what happens if we survive." Her tone did not invite an answer; she did not want to think about it. Taking her hand, he waved his wand and a gap appeared in the hedge. Pulling her through, it resealed itself instantly, and he walked over to the castle wall with her.

"Live now." He told her as she leaned against the cold stone. "Not in the past, nor worrying about the future." Gently, he held her and touched his lips to hers.

"People will hear." She chided him in a hushed voice as he pressed closer to her, his hands sweeping across her back and sides.

"Fine." He replied in a sulky tone. "I'll be quieter then." His lips moved down to lightly feather across her neck, causing her to gasp and throw her head back as they reached her throat.

"Really," she managed to gasp, "they'll miss me soon." Pulling away from his clutches, she slipped beneath his arm and back towards the hedge.

"You always spoil my fun." He growled playfully, making to grab at her waist.

"Only when inappropriate!" she laughed, wagging a finger at him. "You seem to have a tendency to forget where you are when you want to rip my dress off and I am not running through the Entrance Hall in naught but my knickers and stockings." She told him in a hushed whisper as they walked back through the hedge.

Most people were inside dancing so the gardens were fairly empty as they walked through, her hand held gently by his.

"What if we lose?" she whispered in quite a frightened voice as they drew closer to the steps.

"What do you mean?"

"What if we lose?" she asked again. "If we lose but I survive?" she elaborated. "Not that I entertain the thought that we will not be successful," she explained very quickly, "but the possibility had crossed my mind."

"I would be lying if I denied that I hadn't thought of it too." He admitted. "However, if the Dark Lord does win, and you do survive," he went on, "I entertain little hope of you surviving for a prolonged period of time." She was surprised at how blunt he was being.

"It's what I had expected." She nodded, stopping in her path. "Do you really think there would be no hope?"

"Well," he mused, "to the victor go the spoils." He voiced the famous saying.

"Is that what I would be?" she asked in a strangely detached voice. "A prize? A trophy to remember your victory?"

"Quite probably."

"And what about you?"

"My standing in the ranks of the Death Eaters is the highest and, make no mistake," he turned to face her, backing her into the hedge slightly, "I would do everything in my power to make sure that I had you."

"Then I guess I'm fine then." She gave him a coy smile, although privately not really expecting such an outcome were events to fall like that. She let him kiss her softly as they stood there; half hidden by shadow, taking comfort in these last few hours that she would get to spend with him.

Hermione had stepped outside to get some fresh air, to get away from the sometimes oppressive crowds of the Great Hall. She stood lazily at the top of the steps, leaning on the balustrade looking out over the moonlit gardens until something caught her eye. She stifled a gasp as she saw the unmistakeable figures of Lucius Malfoy and Kathryn standing not too far from the stairs. She watched, her eyes gaping wide in horror, as he turned on her. Kathryn did not seem to falter with this sudden advance; appearing to handle the situation quite well. Hermione continued to look as Kathryn gave what appeared to be a demure, timid smile; she imagined that she was trying to extract herself from the situation with as little fuss as possible. Then, quite suddenly, he darted forwards and captured her lips with his. Hermione really had to stifle her cry as Kathryn did not pull away, but instead allowed the vile man to kiss her; one of his hands lightly stroking her cheek whilst the other settled on her waist.

Hermione turned tail and fled as soon as it was over, not wanting to be caught looking; horrified at what she had seen.

"Patience." she hissed at him as soon as he pulled away. "Don't you care that people may see?"

"No." he replied cockily as they walked back up the castle steps.

"Well I do, so be patient." She chided him playfully, careful to keep her voice at a whisper.

"I guess I can wait another half an hour." He replied in a similarly hushed voice, trailing his fingers lightly up and down her back.

"Good boy," she murmured with a smile, "now for Merlin's sake take your hand away before someone sees." He did not oblige her at first; instead slipping his hand further up until his fingers reached her neck and ran lightly over her shoulders. He gave a small smile as her back arched and then withdrew his hand; taking her arm instead and leading her out onto the dance floor.

Hermione watched her for the last half an hour of the ball. She saw the way her friend laughed and smiled when he spoke, the way she gently brushed her hips against his when they danced and the way she looked at him. Her eyes seemed to hold a mysterious sparkle that was almost a promise of something more for anyone that looked into them. She wondered at Kathryn's ability to fool such an arrogant man; practically bringing him to his knees. She could also see the licentious looks that he was giving her whenever her head was turned and she knew that could only spell trouble. Of course, she didn't know that the seductive gaze held no pretence and that every subtle brush against his hips was sating her desire as well as his.

The festivities ended all too soon; the music fading and Dumbledore once again getting to his feet.

"Well, I am afraid that is where this must end. I believe we all owe our Head Boys' and Girls' thanks for arranging this stupendous evening." The four of them blushed slightly as the whole hall broke out into loud applause and plenty of cheering. They did not even mind that Malfoy and his gang of Slytherins remained steadfastly in their chairs. "And I would also like to thank our Governors for attending," there was more polite applause, the Governors and their partners rising to their feet. She stood also and took his arm as he led her, at the head of the group, out of the Great Hall.

"And now I think a good night's sleep is just what you all need. Good night!" they heard Dumbledore say from within the Great Hall as they crossed the Entrance Hall into the anteroom they had used before the ball.

"That was a most enjoyable evening." One of them declared as soon as the door closed, muffling the sound of the many students returning to their dormitories.

"Oh yes," one of the women added, "thank you very much my dear." They all similarly thanked Kathryn for organising it.

"It wasn't just me," she replied modestly with a gracious smile, "my brother and friends helped too."

"I do believe that you were the catalyst for the whole event though." The man who held her arm reminded her.

"Well, in a way, but it was still a joint effort." She conceded. Most of the Governors were pulling on their cloaks, apparently not staying the night as they had done the last time.

"Are you off too Lucius?" Mr Whitford asked as he fastened the clasp of his black cloak.

"No, I petitioned to Dumbledore to stay the night." He explained why he was not donning his cloak. "The manor is rather lonely nowadays, especially in the evenings. I will just escort Miss Potter back to her dormitory, it is not safe to wander the corridors alone at night at the present time, and then I will retire for the night"

"Of course." Mr Whitford gave the man a sympathetic smile. "Well, good night both of you." They bade the rest of the Governors farewell and were, finally, alone. Kathryn, after a few minutes, opened the door a crack and peered out. The Entrance Hall was completely deserted and the huge front doors locked.

"Now," she offered him her arm again, "was there somewhere you were going to escort me?" she raised a questioning eyebrow. He smirked and gave her a small nod, taking her arm in his and leading her out into the Entrance Hall.

They walked quietly, not wanting to bring Filch running if he got wind that there were people out of bed and out of bounds at night. Smiling impishly at him, she took his hand once they were further into the castle and ducked behind a tapestry and up a concealed flight of stairs. She stopped dead, however, when she heard wheezy breathing at the other end of the passage.

"Filch!" she whispered in alarm.

"What's that my sweet?" he said to his mangy cat, Mrs Norris. "People wandering the castle. Don't worry, we'll have them." To Kathryn's horror, she realised that he was about to turn into the passage that they were using. Pulling out her wand she waved it at Filch, there was a loud crack and an anguished yell as Filch was yanked ten feet in the air.

"In here, quick." She whispered to the man behind her, pushing one of the bricks in the wall down like a button. Silently, a segment of the wall slid away to reveal a narrow passage, starting halfway up the wall, running off in another direction. Obediently, he climbed in as Filch let out another angry cry.

"PEEVES!" Filch cursed the poltergeist that he assumed was holding him in mid air. "I'll have you out for this!" there was a loud crash as Kathryn muttered the counter curse and lowered her wand, sending Filch dropping to the floor in a heap.

"Hurry!" he muttered to her, holding out his hand, as they heard Filch getting to his feet. Grabbing his outstretched palm, she hiked the bottom of her dress up and placed one stilettoed foot on the rim of the high step. In one fluid movement, he had pulled her up into the second passageway and into his arms only seconds before Filch crashed through the tapestry. In his haste, the caretaker had not noticed the rather obvious hole in the wall. Silently, she reached out her hand and touched one of the walls and, moments later, the stone doorway slid shut; leaving them in total darkness. With another wave of her wand, flames sprang up in previously empty candle brackets mounted on the walls.

"This way." Taking his hand she led him on.

"You know this castle better than Filch." He commented in amazement as they walked.

"I had the Weasley twins to teach me, didn't I." she reminded him as they came to another solid wall.

"Aperui." She murmured and, as before, the wall slid away. Politely, he jumped out first before reaching up and lifting her down.

"Not bad." He told her, seeing that they were now standing on the landing of one of the staircases.

"Arcanus." She murmured the incantation that closed the wall. "Yes, well, just keep walking before Filch comes back." She told him, taking his hand and leading him up the stairs and into another passage. She could not help but laugh as, in the darkness, he tried to reach out for her; generally missing by a few feet. He succeeded as she pulled him through another passage, concealed by a heavy tapestry; pinning her against the wall and capturing her lips in a smouldering kiss. He knew that such behaviour was very risky; especially with teachers on patrol through the corridors. At that point, however, as they neared the seventh floor; he was too possessed by desire to think rationally.

"Hurry up." She whispered as he paced three times before the blank stretch of wall. Moments later, a heavy wooden door appeared and they darted inside as the sound of footsteps drew ever closer. Barely moments after the door closed and locked behind them, Snape walked down the corridor; certain that he had heard something but finding no one. Cursing his bad luck, he had hoped to find Potter, Weasley or Granger up to something; he swept off towards the stairs to the sixth floor.

"That was a very near miss." She breathed a sigh of relief once the sound of Snape's footsteps faded. She sat down on a stool before a mirrored dressing table and began to remove the jewellery around her neck and in her ears. Moving to stand behind her, he caught her hands in his as she reached to undo the clasp of the diamond studded necklace.

"Let me." He whispered in her ear. Obediently she let her hands fall and allowed his to trail beneath her hair whilst his teeth found the sensitive flesh of her earlobe and bit down gently. He laid the necklace next to the earrings and bracelet that already sat on the dresser, his hands then moving to the tiara that was still perched atop her head. Her hand followed his up and she stared at her reflection in the mirror.

"I don't think Draco noticed," he commented as she ran her fingers over the rows of flawless diamonds, "the boy doesn't really bother himself with the more elegant of our family heirlooms." His lips curved into his familiar smirk as he placed the circlet alongside the jewellery and she ran her fingers through her hair.

"Well, no wonder he hasn't caught on to what you're doing!" she said in an amused tone, getting to her feet and turning to face him. Smiling; he shrugged off his jacked and laid it on the stool she had just occupied. She giggled slightly as he toed off his shoes and bent to remove his socks.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"Just you, taking off your socks, is a weird thing to see." She giggled even more, stepping out of her shoes and waiting to see what he did next. Kneeling down before her, he slid a hand beneath the hem of her dress.

"Now, let me see." He murmured as his hand ran up her leg and thigh until it reached her hips. "Here we are." His fingers deftly released the clasp that held the lace belt and she felt it fall and hang against her legs; still attached to the silk stockings it had been previously holding up. His other hand joined its partner and they slid languidly back down her legs, drawing the stockings down with them until they reached the floor. Shaking her head, she stepped out of them and kicked them aside as he got to his feet once more.

"Happy now?" she asked with a smile as his arm reached for her waist.

"Indeed." He gave her a sly smirk as he pulled her closer, his fingers drawing lazy patterns onto the exposed skin of her back whilst his lips trailed along her throat. She shuddered slightly as his hands moved lower and found the laces that held her dress in place. His lips did not move from hers as he undid them with a small tug and the dress fell limp. Her hands, meanwhile, had expertly undone the buttons on his shirt and were caressing the soft skin beneath. Stepping carefully backwards, he led her over to stand by the bed; her dress only remaining up due to the way he held her to his chest. Stepping away from her, the many layers of chiffon fell away and landed with a soft rustle on the rug beneath their feet. Clad now in only a scrap of black lace, she gave a slight quiver as the cold air hit her, before sliding her arms around his neck and pressing her lips to his.

His shirt slipped from his shoulders and pooled on the floor at their feet; her hands forcing the soft cotton past his elbows. Her entire body seemed to ache with desire and she was grateful when she felt muscles ripple beneath her fingers and he lifted her off her feet. Shamelessly, she wrapped her legs around him as he laid her down on the dark blue sheets, pulling him down with her.

"And you lecture me on being patient." He whispered into her ear as his hands tugged the scrap of fabric off her. "Hypocrite." His hands moved lower and lower on her body; inducing the cries of pleasure that only he could. He delighted at the way she arched to his every touch and she silently cursed him for making her want him so much.

"You're making me ache." She moaned in his ear, her lips running across his neck.

"Well, we can't have that, can we?" he smirked, turning her to lie flat on the mattress and settling himself between her legs.

They came together that night as if they had never done before and they never would again. Every touch and kiss was passionate, yet laced with desperation; the pair of them knowing that they may never see each other again after this night. Try as she might, she could not help the tears that rolled silently down her flushed cheeks. He bushed them away with the pad of his thumb, hugging her soothingly; he did not want his last memory of her to be unhappy.

She did not leave him; she did not scurry back to her dormitory in the early hours of the morning as she usually would have. Instead she lay nestled in the warm curve of his body, not wanting to leave him until she had to. He lazily ran his hands through the soft waves of her hair as she slept; wondering if he should just steal her away to his manor until the war was over. Of course, that would be impossible; his master having impressed upon all of them how important it was that both the Potter children faced him. In all honesty, he was surprised that he'd been able to conceal it from the powerful wizard for so long.

At seven in the morning, as the castle seemed to stir to life, she rose and pulled her clothes back on; setting the tiara back on her head and stowing the jewels safely in her bag. Detaching the stockings from the belt, she threw them into the crackling fire and added the piece of lace to the contents of her bag.

"Won't you look a bit suspicious wandering round still dressed in that?" he asked from where he sat against the headboard, indicating her dress.

"Who is going to be up apart from Filch and the teachers?" she asked with a shrug. "And they probably want a lie-in too."

"So why can't you have one?" he complained.

"Because I am not walking through the corridors in my gown when there are loads of people about. What kind of things do you think people will say about me then?" she told him. "I don't need people gossiping about where, and with whom, I was."

"True, especially as I am not here to hear those rumours and feel decidedly smug that I know who you were with." He replied with a smirk.

"Oh you are cruel." She shot back dryly, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Without replying, he pulled her down for one final, lingering kiss.

"I really have to go." She told him, pulling herself out of his arms even though it was the last thing she wanted to do.

"I know." He sighed, falling back down onto the pillows.

"See you soon." She whispered optimistically. "Try not to get killed."

"You too." He replied as the door opened and closed and, after she had gone, "I love you."

The castle was eerily quiet and she walked from the seventh floor to the hidden entrance to Gryffindor Tower without so much as seeing another person, living or otherwise.

"Well, where have you been?" The Fat Lady asked with a raised eyebrow as Kathryn prodded her awake.

"None of your business." Kathryn answered curtly. "Surreptitious." She spoke the password.

"Fine." The fat lady swung forward, shooting her an annoyed look as she stepped into the common room. The few people that were awake were too bleary eyed to notice her as she swept up the stairs to the girls' dormitories.

"Where were you all night then?" a voice hissed as soon as she stepped through the door. She looked across the room to see a disapproving, yet slightly groggy looking Hermione giving her a confused look.

"The Room of Requirement, why?" Kathryn asked, feeling slightly less guilty as it wasn't really a lie.

"What were you doing there of all places?" Hermione went on in the same hushed voice so as not to wake Lavender or Parvati. She put her hands over her face to block out the early morning light that filtered through the curtains.

"Sleeping." She replied innocently; again, not really a lie.

"Why?"

"Because by the time I finished talking to the Governors it was two in the morning and I heard Filch saying that he was going to hang anyone caught out of bed to the dungeon ceiling by their ears." Kathryn lied as she pulled on his shirt loose pyjama trousers. "I just headed there because it was closer and saved me causing a shouting match in the corridors." She explained it so easily that Hermione did not argue, instead flopping back onto her pillow and closing her eyes. Kathryn climbed into her bed, tired from the night's exertions but also slightly amused at Hermione. It was only a thought, but Kathryn suspected that she had a hang over. Smiling to herself, she buried down under the covers and closed her eyes, wishing that she was still nestled in the curve of his arm back in the Room of Requirement.

* * *

A/N - The piece of music that inspired their dance is 'Riverdance', I heard it once and fell in love with it. When they kiss in the gardens and Hermione sees, it akin to when Pocahantas and John Smith are discovered in 'Pocahantas'. The way the music builds as they are seen really echoes how I want this part of the story to feel.


	33. Chapter 33

A/N - Hermione confronts her about what she saw in the gardens the night before.

* * *

Later that day, a fully recovered Hermione cornered Kathryn in the common room to ask her about what she had seen the night before.

"How could you?" she whispered in a scandalised voice.

"How could I what?" Kathryn asked, exceedingly confused.

"I saw what you did last night." Hermione whispered angrily, grabbing her friend's hand and practically dragging her up the stairs to the boys' dormitory where Harry and Ron were still in their pyjamas playing exploding snap. They looked surprised when Hermione entered, looking positively fearsome and practically dragging Kathryn behind her.

"What's going on?" Harry asked cautiously as Hermione locked the door behind her.

"Hermione what's the matter?" Ron asked, looking concerned.

"How could you kiss him?" Hermione practically shouted at Kathryn. "How could you do such a thing?"

"Kiss who?" Harry asked, momentarily confused before the reality dawned upon him. "Not Malfoy?" he asked in disbelief.

"You have got to be kidding." Ron couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"It was supposed to be an act!" Hermione cried. "You weren't supposed to do that!"

"It's not like I instigated it!" Kathryn shouted back. "Do you really think that I would be stupid enough to do that?"

"What did you do then?" Harry asked incredulously, although inside he was privately very worried for the mess she could be in.

"If you saw it, Hermione, you should be able to remember what happened." Kathryn said pointedly. "We were just walking in the gardens and he cornered me." She explained. "It's not like I didn't try to get out of it but I couldn't reach my wand and, when something like that happens, you tend to find yourself rooted to the spot."

"But you didn't stop it!" Hermione sighed in a thoroughly exasperated voice. "Why didn't you end it?"

"Why?" Kathryn asked with a raised eyebrow. "Why give him cause to hurt me? Why make him angry?" she asked. "The last time I checked, that wasn't what we wanted to do. Besides, it's not exactly a natural reaction to pull away when something like that happens."

"It will make him expect more."

"But it will satisfy him for the moment." Kathryn told them rationally.

"You give an inch and they take a mile." Hermione warned.

"We'll I'll happily give an inch if it will pacify him for a while." Kathryn countered. "Besides, the next time we see him it will probably be at wand point." She shrugged. "And anyway, it was nice to be kissed." She admitted with a casual smile.

"You liked it?" Ron exclaimed, completely gob smacked.

"Well, I can't deny that the man, despite how repulsive he is, is a good kisser!" she smirked.

"You're hopeless!" Harry shook his head in disbelief.

"I don't care." Kathryn shook her head. "I've told you a thousand times that I know what I'm doing. Now who's up for some Quidditch?" she asked. "If you can actually be bothered to get out of your pyjamas!" she laughed, walking out the door to get her broom.


	34. Chapter 34

A/N - Things begin to move; a letter arrives and Hermione is a good friend because she doesn't tell all she saw when certain detalis are revealed.

* * *

A full week after the ball, in the third week of June, the four of them were called to Dumbledore's office on Saturday evening. They arrived in the round office at the top of the revolving spiral staircase with little idea of what was going on. Inside, settled in armchairs, were McGonagall, Snape, Lupin, Sirius, Kingsley, Tonks and Mad-Eye Moody. Dumbledore himself was seated behind his desk regarding a small letter that sat before him with a troubled look.

"Professor." Hermione spike in a quiet voice as they entered and approached his desk. "You sent for us sir?"

"Ah yes Miss Granger, Miss Potter, Mr Potter, Mr Weasley." He acknowledged them all with a nod of his head before conjuring more chairs for them to sit in. "Well, now that we're all here, I suppose you are wondering why I sent for you." The four of them nodded, their eyes wandering to the package before him. "Late yesterday afternoon the four of you received a letter. Fortunately it was intercepted by the Order and now lies here instead of in your hands. Of course I recognised the writing and Remus and Sirius have just confirmed this for me."

"Our rodent friend addressed it." Sirius growled with a murderous look in his eyes.

"It was from Pettigrew?" Harry gave them a disbelieving look. "What was it?"

"I think you'd better have a look for yourselves." Dumbledore waved his wand and the letter floated across the room to rest on a small table before the four of them. Tentatively, Harry reached out a hand and picked it up. It was light, the entire letter on one sheet of parchment that had been folded over and sealed with black wax. Opening it up, it revealed only three words, written in a ghostly hand.

"No more hiding." Kathryn read out in the silence.

"He sent us a note?" Ron snorted. "He must have finally lost it."

"It isn't just a note you silly boy." Snape spat at Ron. "It's a Portkey."

"A Portkey?" Kathryn gave Snape a questioning look before turning back to Dumbledore. "Where to?"

"As far as we can tell, it will activate when the four of you hold onto it at the same time." Dumbledore spoke pensively. "I believe Lord Voldemort is trying to control the conditions in which he faces you; hence that special ability. He knows that he must face Harry and Kathryn eventually but he also understands that the four of you are virtually inseparable and that facing two of you means facing four. I am sure that it will only take four people to its destination and, knowing Voldemort's thinking, it will only accept you four."

"He's calling us out." Kathryn said quietly, summing up what Dumbledore had just said.

"But he must have known that you would find that out." Hermione surmised. "How can he bank on us taking the risk?"

"He knows you will because not doing so will put more people in danger. He is banking on your sense of humanity to prevail over the innate need to survive."

"Where will it take us?" Harry asked the question that they all wanted to know.

"Alas, that is still unknown." Dumbledore looked slightly mournful. "Usually a simple charm can reveal the destination of a Portkey. Unfortunately it appears that this one has been modified to repel those sorts of spells. Voldemort is apparently not reckless enough to risk revealing his location to the entire Order of the Phoenix."

"So, so you won't be able to find out at all." Ron's voice had a slight shake to it. "We'll have to go alone?"

"I would say that you should not go if we cannot be there to assist you but I fear for what may happen here if you don't."

"You can't just expect us to go of alone, can you?" Harry raised his voice. "I mean, if you don't know where it's going to take us?" he rounded on Snape who was staring into the fire.

"Enough Potter, no need to shout." Professor McGonagall snapped.

"Sorry Professor, but there will be the Death Eaters too. We can't cope with them and Voldemort, I mean, Ron and Hermione are twenty and we're only nineteen. We can't expect to live through that." Kathryn's insides churned, the meaning of what she had seen the other night at the ball suddenly dawning in her mind.

"I think that is Voldemort's general idea." Dumbledore told them gravely. "Like I said, he is trying to control the situation and remove you from all that you would find helpful."

"I have not been trusted with that information. As the Dark Lord believes me to be acting as a spy for him he thought it unwise to entrust me with such details when I was in such close contact with Dumbledore and even I am not foolhardy enough to attempt Legilimency. The most I can tell you that he will probably wait about two weeks before he comes to fetch you. He will not wait forever. In fact, he expressly wished me to make that very clear."

"So who does know?" Hermione asked Snape.

"Only his very inner circle; Bellatrix Lestrange, Rodolphus Lestrange, Dolohov, Rabastan Lestrange and, of course, Lucius Malfoy." He counted them off on his fingers.

"In other words, we have little chance of finding out." Tonks said from her perch on the arm of Lupin's chair. The conversation went on in a roundabout way from then, everyone discussing possible methods of finding out where the Portkey was going to take them. No one noticed the way Kathryn was sat; gazing into the fire with a mixed look of terror and comprehension on her face.

"Miss Potter, are you alright?" Dumbledore asked, finally noticing her expression.

"Little Hangleton." She said in a near whisper.

"Pardon?"

"Little Hangleton." She said again in a louder voice. "The Riddle House just outside Little Hangleton." She looked around at them all. "That's where the Portkey's going. But," she hesitated, "but it's not right. It's a trap."

"Would you mind explaining how in Merlin's name you know that?" Moody growled from his chair, his magical eye fixed unblinkingly on her.

"I think we'd all like to know." Snape said with an inquisitive look at Kathryn. She was careful to conceal her thoughts before continuing.

"Lucius Malfoy." Those two words were enough to send most of the people in the room into an uproar.

"WHAT?" Sirius roared, leaping up from his chair. "How can you find that out from him when Snivelly here can't?" Snape didn't even come back with a cutting remark; he just sat there staring intently at Kathryn.

"And what do you think you're doing getting so close to a bloody Death Eater?" Moody roared, his magical eye spinning furiously in its socket.

"I think we would all like to know how you have discovered this, Miss Potter." Dumbledore spoke, his voice calming the tempers that had suddenly flared.

"It was an accident." She explained to the now silent room. "His guard was down and I just thought I'd try it out, I didn't think it'd work." She shifted nervously in her seat. "I didn't think Legilimency would work, I mean, I've not practiced it. It didn't really; I just got that one bit of information."

"Just how, may I ask, was his guard down?" Lupin asked calmly.

"He was…he was," her voice caught in her throat, as if her mind was in conflict over whether to actually say it. She wasn't sure that she could.

"Yes, my dear." Dumbledore prompted.

"He was looking at me. He was looking at me and his guard dropped." She spoke very fast before she could change her mind about what she was going to say.

"Why was Lucius Malfoy looking at you in a way that made him drop his guard?" Sirius asked in a level voice, belying the anger that he felt.

"Because he's an arrogant playboy that thinks he can have whatever and whoever he wants. If you'll remember, his wife died so he is free to eye up anyone he chooses."

"Why didn't you tell us this?" McGonagall asked, looking slightly white at the revelation that Lucius Malfoy had been eyeing up one of her students.

"Because it's nothing worth bothering about." Kathryn dismissed her head of house's worries with a wave of her hand. "He'll be in Azkaban within a month so it's nothing to worry about." Her tone was final and they did not broach that subject again.

"Did you see anything else, anything else about where it would take you?" Dumbledore asked.

"It would take us to the house, to somewhere we couldn't escape from." She explained. "I saw Hogwarts too."

"And do you have a theory?"

"I think that he wants to take Hogwarts first, to remove those that would wish to help us that would be here guarding the castle."

"A good theory."

"And then he would return to finish us, something made easier away from the castle's, and your, protection." She finished, staring into her lap nervously.

"Well," he looked quite happy at this new information, "I hope you realise that this discovery has probably saved your lives, as well as those of most of the students in this school." His face was full of gratitude and that only made Kathryn feel even guiltier about how she had found out. "Naturally, I do not wish for you to take that Portkey, but I doubt that Voldemort will show himself here without proof that the portkey has left."

"There has to be a way of making him think that we have gone." Hermione suggested hopefully. "Polyjuice potion maybe?"

"Possibly, Miss Granger. I have no doubt that Voldemort expects you to be noble and go, and might therefore assume that you will not try to fool the Portkey."

"Hang on," Ron spoke before Snape had a chance to get his words out, "what about if you did what Crouch did to the Goblet of Fire?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with inspiration, "confound it, make it take something else!"

"Quite inspired Mr Weasley!" Dumbledore chuckled. "It would take some complex magic but I'm sure I could manage. Alastor, might I assume that your assistance will be provided?" Dumbledore asked Moody.

"If you need it."

"Marvellous."

"What about the students?" Professor McGonagall asked in a serious tone. "If He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is coming here then we cannot have them stay."

"I understand your concerns, Minerva, but I believe it quite imperative that we do nothing."

"Nothing!" even Snape seemed to balk at this suggestion. "They are just children, Albus; some can barely perform simple spells. He will not discriminate between members of the Order and children."

"Any apparent evacuation of the students will arouse suspicion." Dumbledore explained rationally.

"And we don't know how many people he has in the Ministry," Kingsley added, "if Ministry employees start talking about their children being sent home, it's a sure-fire guarantee that You-Know-Who will find out."

"Hogwarts is still the safest place." Dumbledore nodded. "But I assure you that we shall protect the students when the time comes."

"What about those students who are of age?" Snape asked curiously.

"They may, if the time comes, fight." Dumbledore conceded. "I believe that most of the school is well educated on a variety of jinxes and hexes, as well as effective methods of protection."

"They are," Kathryn nodded, "but it is only those from seventh year and above that I would consider capable of facing such an enemy, and even then they are a small number. They could, however, be of use in the protection and evacuation of younger students."

"As well as keeping the Slytherin's in line." Ron snorted, not caring that Snape, Head of Slytherin, was in the room too.

"Watch your tongue, Weasley."

"Now, now, Severus," Dumbledore cautioned, "he does have a point."

"Yeah," Sirius chipped in dryly, "how many of your students have parents in You-Know-Who's little gang?"

"Malfoy, Nott, Crabbe, Goyle," he listed, "Mulciber, Parkinson, and Bletchley."

"Impressive list." McGonagall commented.

"There are more but I couldn't be sure." Snape added. "Only Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle and Nott have fathers' in the inner circle."

"And is Draco Malfoy the only one with the Mark?" Lupin asked.

"Yes." Snape nodded. "Although Crabbe and Goyle might as well be marked as they go everywhere with him."

"Thank you Severus." Dumbledore nodded. "I think that is all that needs to be said really," he glanced at the clock, "and it is getting late. All that I can suggest now is that you prepare the elder members of the DA for a fight." He nodded in Kathryn and Harry's direction.

"I feel like we've been doing that since fifth year." Harry said dryly.

"Well, yes." He gave a small chuckle. "Anyway, that is all, you may go now."

"Thank you Professor."

"Good night." They bade goodnight to everyone else in the office before heading back to the common room.

"Well, I say we've got about a week to enjoy what we have left of our lives, if we're lucky." Ron prophesised gloomily as they walked.

"Don't be so depressing Ron." Hermione scolded, although Kathryn could tell that she felt the same way.

"Look," Kathryn was determined to stay the voice of reason, "we will either win or lose and Harry and I will live or die. We've just got to do the best we can."


	35. Chapter 35

A/N - And what about that final Horcrux??

* * *

A week passed by very quickly. Too quickly for their liking. They had spent it holding DA meetings almost every other evening with all students in sixth year and above. Some of the younger seemed a trifle excited by the sudden change, but those in Harry's year were all grave and solemn faces for they understood the gravity of what might be coming. Their sole focus was defensive magic; any jinxes and curses that would be useful in repelling the Death Eaters that they, privately, knew would descend upon the castle. Kathryn had also given everyone a stern talk on how they should conduct themselves, should they find themselves in a combat situation.

"A Death Eater will not discriminate between a member of the Order of the Phoenix and a child." She told them plainly. "They will not care that you are young. You are standing between them and their goal and must therefore be removed. Even if you pose no threat and are merely defending yourself or others, they will still aim to kill." Harry did not like how well she seemed to understand the Death Eaters, but he knew she was right.

"If you are anything below seventh year, do not consider engaging a Death Eater. Help members of the Order by all means, but do not engage them directly. There may be some, Pius Thicknesse for example; who you will probably be able to take on. Other than that, just defend yourself and those younger than you."

"What if there's no one else around?"

"You defend yourself and run. Try not to go round alone; stay in groups, then the odds are better in a confrontation." She explained.

"Who is the most dangerous?"

"Apart from Voldemort," she replied dryly, "well, Bellatrix Lestrange delights in causing pain, as does Antonin Dolohov." Neville's jaw twitched at the mention of Bellatrix's name. "Greyback is supremely dangerous because of what he can do to you if he bites you. Even if he is not transformed, he can still leave you permanently scarred. The Carrows are fond of torture too, they pride themselves on it."

"Anyone else?"

"Lucius Malfoy." She answered without hesitation. "He can inflict great pain, and is very good at doing so." Harry noted that her voice went slightly hollow for a moment, her eyes looking somewhat distant. "So do not even approach him," she shook her head, "but that's just me being selfish as I want to get the chance of hexing the hell out of him first!"

They also, along with Neville, plumbed the depths of the Room of Requirement. Of everyone that used it, Neville seemed to be the one that really understood the room. Kathryn, of course, did not let on how she had put the Room to extensive use over the course of the past two years.

"It's about closing all the loopholes." He said to them as he paced around the room. "And knowing what you can ask for."

"Like you can't ask for food!" Hermione said brightly.

"Yeah," Neville nodded feverishly, "but if you ask for food, look what happens." He gestured to where a passageway appeared in the wall, hidden behind a picture frame.

"Where does it lead?" Ron asked, peering down into the dark.

"The Hog's Head!" Neville replied with a grin. "Aberforth's great, always good to give you food if you need it."

"How on earth did you find this?" Hermione asked in awe.

"In seventh year, when you lot weren't here. I was hiding from a bunch of Slytherins with some of the DA lot. I mean, it was havoc because Umbridge came back and the Slytherins were allowed to run rampant again. We stayed in here for days and, when we wanted food, that passage appeared. The door can open in different places too so you could get out and avoid people that might be waiting on the other side of the seventh floor."

"Neville," Hermione breathed, "you're brilliant."

"Not really," Neville bowed his head and looked at the floor, "it's just trial and error really."

"But this is the way we can get students out of the school!" Hermione exclaimed. "Through the Hogs Head."

"And it's a way for the Order to get in." Kathryn reminded her.

"More to the point," Hermione said later that day as they sat at a secluded edge of the lake, "we still need to find the last Horcrux, apart from Nagini, that is."

"Yeah." Harry sighed. "I'm sure it's at Hogwarts, I mean, it makes sense for him to have hidden something here."

"How could he though?" Ron groaned. "He hasn't been back to the castle since he left."

"But he has!" realisation struck Kathryn like a bolt of lightning. "When he came to ask Dumbledore for a job!"

"I'm going to the library!" Hermione jumped up. "If he was trying to use things that had belonged to the Founders then there has to be something in there!" she dashed off without another word.

"I do not want to be around the day the library fails Hermione!" Ron laughed, stretching himself out to bask in the sun.

"Me either!" Harry chuckled, trying to ignore the prickling in his scar. He could see the telltale signs on Kathryn's face and knew that hers was prickling too. They were getting close.

"Nice to see you decided to join us!" Ron said to Hermione at dinner two days later. She flopped down into her seat with an exhausted sigh, her face slightly pale and her eyes ringed by dark circles. "Had enough of the library then?" Hermione had hardly been out of library since they had spoken on the lake.

"I have gone through every book they have about the Founders," she sighed, "even previous, older editions of Hogwarts: A History."

"You look it." Kathryn commented, sipping her tea. Hermione had breakfasted before them for the past days and had never been seen at mealtimes.

"That's beside the point." Hermione waved the comment away, piling her plate high with roast beef and mashed potatoes. "I found loads of references to objects belonging to the Founders."

"Such as?" Ron asked, digging into his sausages.

"Well, there is the Sorting Hat, obviously, which belonged to Godric Gryffindor."

"But there is no way that could be a Horcrux." Harry shook his head. "Dumbledore would've known."

"I wasn't going to say it was," Hermione snapped, the long time spent between the library shelves obviously having worn her out, "in fact, I don't think You-Know-Who used anything of Gryffindor's."

"It would be a bit odd if he did I suppose." Kathryn commented. "Using something that belonged to a person that stands for everything he condemns."

"I did, however, find something that might be a worthy candidate." She gave a small smile, Harry quickly casting the Muffiliato charm to make sure that they weren't overheard. "Ravenclaw's Diadem!"

"Ravenclaw's what?" Ron asked in a nonplussed tone.

"Her diadem," Kathryn repeated, "it's a tiara."

"Oh, right."

"The thing is," Hermione went on, "it's lost."

"What do you mean lost?"

"It just vanishes, after the death of Rowena Ravenclaw there is no mention of it. It is, after that point, referred to as the Lost Diadem of Ravenclaw."

"I think 'lost' is a pretty good condition for Voldemort wanting to make it a Horcrux." Harry concluded glumly. "He would've wanted the satisfaction of finding it."

"The only problem is," Kathryn sighed, "finding where he hid it. I mean, there must be thousands of places in Hogwarts that you can conceal something." On that depressing note, they removed the Muffiliato charm and finished their dinner in silence.

They retired fairly early, like they had done most of that week; living by the mantra of sleep as often as you can. They did not want to be caught exhausted when the time eventually came. However, both Harry and Kathryn found their dreams dogged by Voldemort. Tossing and turning in bed, their scars screaming in pain, they saw the locket, the cup and the ring. They felt his anger and, more importantly, his fear. They both bolted awake, breathing hard, but the vision did not end. Their scars burst with pain at his fury; he had no idea whether they were safe. He would go to the cave first, that would take longest, and then the house. Hogwarts could be last, the diadem was safe there. With another flash of blinding pain, the vision ended and they were left bent double on the floor.

Hermione thankfully, was the only one awoken by the sound of Kathryn thudding to the floor. She had grown used to listening carefully in the night for sounds of her friend in distress.

"Harry." She heard Kathryn gasp before she pulled herself to her feet and stumbled out the door. Hermione, not caring if she woke anyone else, sprang out of bed and followed her down the stairs into the common room. They were soon joined by Harry and Ron, and sat down before the last embers of the fire to hear what they had seen.

"He knows." Harry said in a hoarse voice. "Or he will do soon."

"What was it?" Hermione asked; a note of fear quite evident in her voice.

"He's gone to the cave, to check on his Horcrux." Kathryn answered quietly. "And naturally he's going to find it gone.

"And presents us with a problem." Hermione concluded. "We have to find that last one."

"He let that slip though!" Harry told them excitedly. "The Diadem is the last Horcrux and it is at Hogwarts." Kathryn grinned wildly and, with a wave of her wand, their invisibility cloaks zoomed into their hands.

"And we're going to find it." She tossed Harry his cloak and pulled hers around her shoulders. With another wave of her wand, she sent her Patronus off through the corridors.

"Where did you send that?" Ron asked.

"To Luna, I'll bet you anything that there is a statue or something of Ravenclaw in their common room. I'll bet you more that she is wearing her diadem." Springing to their feet, the four of them got beneath both cloaks and set off as fast as they could towards Ravenclaw common room.

It was there that Luna stood, obviously having received her message.

"What's wrong?" she asked as they appeared from beneath the cloaks.

"Is there a picture of Ravenclaw in here?" Hermione asked. "Wearing her diadem?"

"Over there." In the niche to where Luna was pointing stood a tall, marble statue of Rowena Ravenclaw. On her head sat a delicate tiara, not unlike the one Fleur had worn at her wedding. Walking across the dark blue, star spangled carpet, Harry and Kathryn stood on the marble plinth so that they could just make out the inscription along the base of the diadem.

'Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure', it read.

Another image rose into Harry's mind, that of an ugly warlock with a wig and an old battered tiara upon his head. He knew exactly where the diadem was and the shock hit him harder than a shot of Firewhisky.

"I know where it is!" he exclaimed in the quiet. "Thanks Luna!" he hugged her before swinging his cloak back about his shoulders and making for the door.

"No problem." Luna shrugged.

"Luna," Kathryn said quickly before she went back up to her dormitory, "it might be a good idea to get dressed. Things might happen sooner than expected." Luna nodded in understanding and hurried back up the stairs.

"How do you know where it is, Harry?" Hermione asked in a hushed tone as they walked through the silent corridors.

"I'll tell you when we get there." Harry replied as they made their way to a very familiar corridor. Soon enough, they were standing outside the entrance to the Room of Requirement.

"He thought only he could get in here, he didn't have the foresight to think that others could!" Harry proclaimed as they faced the blank wall.

"So how come Dumbledore didn't find it hidden here?" Ron asked as Harry paced back and forth three times.

"Dumbledore was a good student in his time; he didn't stray out of the dormitory at night like we've done." Harry explained. "He hasn't worked out the Room's secret." Hermione gasped in wonder as they walked into the room full of hidden things.

"There must be hundreds of years' worth of stuff in here!"

"I've had to hide some things in my time!" Harry said with a laugh, looking for the old cabinet. "I found it when I was hiding the Prince's, well, Snape's old potions book."

"And I hid some Basilisk fangs in here too." Kathryn added. "After we realised that they could destroy Horcruxes."

"Here!" Harry cried out from a little further down the row of unsavoury objects. The tiara was slightly tarnished from the years spent in the room, but that did not diminish its beauty.

"It's a shame he put his filthy soul in something so beautiful, and so precious." Kathryn sighed.

"Only the best will do, remember?" Ron remarked. "Who gets the honour?"

"I think it's Kathryn's turn," Hermione said, "after all, we've all had the pleasure."

"Thanks, I'll be back in a moment." She dashed off back to an urn she had pointed out earlier. She was back within a minute, weighing a large Basilisk fang in her hand. Her scar prickled as she took the diadem from Hermione's hands but she forced all thoughts of Voldemort out of her mind as she laid it upon the stone floor.

"This is for my mum and dad." She said, revenge burning in her eyes, before she drove the sharp fang into the delicately wrought metal. There was a long, guttural cry as the piece of Voldemort's soul was destroyed, the tiara melting and shrivelling as it did so. Eventually, the noise stopped and all that was left was the shrivelled piece of tarnished metal that was now no bigger than a bracelet. Picking it up, Kathryn could see that the inscription was still visible. Feeling slightly guilty for destroying something of such historical importance, she slipped it onto her wrist and laid the Basilisk fang back down on a cluttered table.

"Wow." She breathed. "Only one more to go."

"Where the real fun begins." Ron muttered darkly as they walked out of the door. Kathryn's scar began to prickle again as they walked back to their common room and, from the look on Harry's face, she could tell that he felt it too. Trying to ignore the mounting pain, she concentrated on getting back to Gryffindor tower. It was mere feet away from the portrait of the Fat Lady that the pain reached fever pitch and they could not fail to cry out.

Anger beyond what they would've believed possible filled their bodies, as if it was trying to corrupt their very souls. Through the white hot pain they saw an empty stone basin. His secret was no longer safe; the one at Hogwarts was no longer safe. He could wait no longer, he had to act now. He had to go to Hogwarts, but no, he had to check the other one first.

As abruptly as it had started, everything vanished and they were left lying on the cold stone floor, a terrified Ron and Hermione gazing down upon them.

"What was it?" Hermione asked in a shaky voice.

"He knows." Harry replied in a hoarse voice, pulling himself to his feet. Kathryn followed suit, straightening her glasses.

"Oh God!" Hermione gasped, clapping a hand to her mouth.

"Definitely not good." Ron agreed.

"We have to get everyone out." Kathryn said quietly. "He'll be here soon." Waving her wand, her Patronus blossomed from the end and streaked off down the corridor. "I've sent that to Dumbledore."

There was another bout of blinding pain as they saw an empty box. The next thing they saw was a long, pale finger touching the coiling black Dark Mark of a small, rat-faced man. There was another blinding flash of pain and they saw hooded and masked figures begin to appear all around Voldemort.

"He's summoned them." Kathryn spoke quietly, wondering what Snape would do when he felt the Mark burn.

Within minutes they were joined by Dumbledore as well as Professors McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick and Sprout.

"What happened?" McGonagall asked in a frightened, yet calm, tone.

"He's on his way." Kathryn said simply. "He knows our secret." She said particularly to Dumbledore.

"We must evacuate the school." Dumbledore said calmly. "Bring your houses down to the Great Hall in twenty minutes." His voice seemed to instil calm into them all. "All those under-age must leave for their own safety but all those who are of age, and who wish to, may stay and fight."

"What of defences?" Professor Sprout asked.

"Fillius," Dumbledore addressed the diminutive Charms Professor, "I trust you will do all you can." Flitwick nodded and immediately began waving his wand.

"As for you, Pomona," Dumbledore turned to Sprout, "I trust that you have some useful plants tucked away in your greenhouses."

"I'll use everything I can." She nodded. "I doubt they'll like Venomous Tentacula much."

"Minerva, if you would do the honours." Dumbledore motioned to McGonagall who nodded.

"Piertotum locomotor!" she cried, waving her wand with a flourish. All around them, the shining suits of armour jumped off their plinths and stood rigidly to attention.

"Wow." They heard Ron breathe.

"Hogwarts is threatened!" she cried. "Man the boundaries, protect the students, do your duty to the school!" the statues turned as one and ran down the corridor. They could tell from the thundering noise that all the others throughout the school were doing the same.

"I will see you in the Great Hall in twenty minutes." The Heads of House nodded and made to leave.

"Severus," Dumbledore called back to the Potions Master who turned to look at him with his dark eyes, "you know what to do." Without uttering a word, Snape nodded and disappeared down the corridor.

"I guess we'd better change." Kathryn tugged aimlessly at her pyjamas. "What do you wear when you're going to fight the most evil wizard of all time?" she asked them with a look of mock seriousness.

"I'd say a full suit of armour, working on past experience. Maybe we could borrow one?" Ron laughed as they sprinted the length of the corridor to their common room where McGonagall was already beginning to rouse the Gryffindors. "But jeans have served us well in the past so I'd say those!" she and Hermione laughed as they headed to their deserted dormitory.

"Dress warmly and bring nothing save your wands." McGonagall's voice echoed through the dormitories.

She and Hermione followed Ron's advice to a tee. Admittedly, Hermione was probably more practical than Kathryn; pulling on a comfortable pair of jeans, well-worn trainers, a plain top and a dark jumper. Kathryn, once Hermione had gone back downstairs, pulled on her favourite pair of black jeans as they were the darkest pair she owned and then withdrew, from the bottom of her trunk, one final box from Quality Quidditch Supplies. Harry and the others had questioned her on the need for five pieces of armour when she would probably only play four matches but she had given the excuse of needing a backup piece. This was definitely one of the dearest objects she had ever purchased from Quality Quidditch Supplies; costing her over 200 Galleons for the single piece thanks to the considerable expense of acquiring the material required. She pulled it on, disguising it with a soft black top with long sleeves. After pulling on a pair of sturdy boots and draping a black cloak over her shoulders she joined her friends back in the common room.

"You do realise that you give the phrase 'dressed to kill' a whole new meaning." Harry commented with a smile as she strode towards them.

"Well, it's not my fault that these are the darkest clothes I own and, if I pull the hood up," she did thus and turned her back on them, "who do I resemble?"

"I think that Death Eaters will know better than to accept a figure in a dark cloak as one of their own." Hermione gave Kathryn's disguise a sceptical glance as she turned back to face them.

"It may buy us the second we need to get away though." She wagged a finger at Hermione. "Don't be so apprehensive, it could work. And I have my invisibility cloak underneath it just in case." She had never told them, but when she'd had that cloak made, she had modelled it on the one she had seen Lucius wear with his tooled leather armour the last time they had met as enemies. It had the appearance of being heavy but was actually very fluid, giving maximum mobility for duelling.

"I guess we'll find out soon enough." Harry commented, watching as the younger students, some looking quite terrified, appeared in the common room. Some however, like Ginny, Neville, Dean and Seamus, appeared also dressed for a fight.

"Hang on!" Hermione had her eyes fixed on a spot just above the pocket of Kathryn's jeans. "What's that?" she pointed out a few dangling pieces of leather that were protruding from beneath her top.

"Nothing." Kathryn hastily yanked her top further down to cover them.

"That's not nothing." Hermione reached out her hand to touch them. Kathryn, however, turned just before she could and her hand ended up skimming over her stomach. "What have you got on under there?" Hermione gave a small gasp as Kathryn raised her top with a sigh.

"Happy now?" she asked as the three of them stared at her abdomen in shock.

"What is that?" Harry asked, running his hand over the material.

"Hungarian Horntail dragon hide." She explained, lifting her top up further to reveal the black, scaly material beneath.

"But that's really rare!" Hermione gasped. "Its trade is strictly controlled by the Ministry of Magic. It must have cost a fortune."

"Yeah. Hopefully it'll turn out to be one of the best things I've ever bought. I mean, it probably won't make much difference but I thought that it couldn't hurt to try."

"Well, dragon hide is really tough to get past with spells; they just bounce off." Hermione, as usual, sounded like she'd swallowed the textbook.

"Voldemort killed our parents, I intend on surviving long enough to kill him."

Harry glanced at his watch. "We'd better be going." The other Gryffindors were being led out of the portrait hole by Professor McGonagall who, in the brief time, had changed into something rather more appropriate than her tartan dressing gown.

"Let's go." Kathryn nodded decisively, leading the way through the portrait hole, bringing up the tail end of the Gryffindor group.

"Dean, Seamus," Harry called to the pair who were following McGonagall along with them, "get to the Room of Requirement and ask for everything Neville told you to." He explained. "We need someone there for when people start coming through." The boys nodded and ran off in the opposite direction. Speeding up, the four of them, joined by Ginny and Neville, overtook the large group of Gryffindors and worked their way down to the Great Hall through the many concealed passages.

The corridors were busy as they walked towards the Great Hall. None of them spoke; all contemplating what they were about to do, what they were about to face. Kathryn's stomach was churning; she knew that it wouldn't be as simple as it seemed. Voldemort was sure to want to face them alone, but she was worried for those he would remove in order to get to them, and what instruments he would bring with him to do said removing.


	36. Chapter 36

A/N - The Battle of Hogwarts. You may notice that some parts are very similar to what you read in Deathly Hallows. I re-wrote this entire segment (several chapters) after book 7 arrived because my version was, quite frankly, disgustingly bad. Rowling did it so well so I kind of mixed my story and the original together. The dialogue has been modified slightly, but it remains faithful to the original. Enjoy!

* * *

Nearly all the school was there when they reached the Great Hall. A great many looked frightened, jumpers and trousers pulled hurriedly on over their pyjamas. Some of the older students looked less ruffled, as if they had considered what to wear with a fight in mind. Indeed, there was a small gaggle of DA members forming at the end of the Gryffindor table, all apparently awaiting their instruction.

Silence fell across the hall as Dumbledore stood on the Gryffindor table.

"Hogwarts is threatened." He explained in a totally calm voice. "It is unsafe for you to remain in the Castle at this time." There were a few whimpers of fear but these soon stopped as Dumbledore spoke again. "Your House Prefects are going to lead all those under-age to the evacuation point. There are no exceptions." He added sternly as he spotted some of the younger members of the DA looking disgruntled. "I know that there are those of you well trained in defensive magic and, even though you cannot remain behind, I urge you to use your skills to protect those younger and more vulnerable than yourselves."

There was a slight disturbance as members of the Order of the Phoenix bean to file into the hall, gathering not far from the DA. Their faces were grim and set, ready for the battle ahead. Their faces broke into smiles as they saw Sirius appear through the doors along with Lupin and Tonks.

"You ready?" he asked, clapping them both on the shoulder.

"As we'll ever be." Kathryn sighed.

"Protection has already been placed around the castle but it is unlikely to hold for long unless we reinforce it." Dumbledore spoke again. "You must follow your prefects, calmly and quietly, and do as they-."

His final words were drowned as a different voice echoed through the hall. It was high, cold and clear: there was no telling from where it came; it seemed to issue from the very walls.

"I know that you are preparing to fight." There were screams from the gathered students, some clutching each other in terror. "But you have no chance. You cannot fight me. I do not wish to kill you. I have great respect for the teachers of Hogwarts. I do not want to spill magical blood for every drop spilled is a waste."

The silence was deafening as they waited for the unseen terror to speak again.

"Give me Harry and Kathryn Potter," Voldemort said, "and none shall be harmed. Give me Harry and Kathryn Potter and I will leave the school untouched. Give me them and you shall be rewarded." There was silence still.

"You have until midnight."

Every pair of eyes in the hall was fixed on Harry and Kathryn. They could not move; they were frozen in the glare.

"They're there!" a high pitched voice shrieked. "They're there!" they recognised the figure standing at the Slytherin table as Pansy Parkinson. "Someone grab them!"

Faster than they could've believed, every Gryffindor in the hall turned to face the Slytherins, wands being pulled from up sleeves and in dressing gown pockets, forming a wall between them and Harry and Kathryn. This was followed by those at the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables. Harry and Kathryn were shocked beyond words, nothing could ever be said to express the gratitude they felt.

"Thank you, Miss Parkinson," McGonagall's voice cut through the tension, "you will leave the hall first with Mr Filch and the rest of your house." There was a great grinding of benches and footsteps as the Slytherins trooped out of the hall, led by Filch and Mrs Norris.

"Ravenclaw's follow on!" slowly, all the tables emptied. Many Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students remained behind, with almost half of Gryffindor staying in their places. Before any more chatter could break out, Kingsley stepped forwards and stood beside Dumbledore.

"There is only half an hour until midnight," he told them in his deep, steady voice. "We must devise a battle plan. Professors Sprout, Flitwick and McGonagall are going to take groups of fighters up to the highest towers – Ravenclaw, Astronomy and Gryffindor – from where they will have an excellent vantage point from which to work spells."

"Remus, Arthur and Kingsley will take groups of fighters into the grounds." Dumbledore went on. "And we need some people to organise the defence of passageways into the castle."

"That sounds like a job for us!" Fred called, indicating himself and George.

"Excellent." Dumbledore smiled. "And I trust that you four will be operating as you see fit?" Dumbledore addressed Kathryn, Ron, Harry and Hermione.

"We will." Kathryn nodded.

"Just stay safe, and stay together." He reminded them. "Now, team leaders divide and organise your groups." People were still spilling through the doors, having arrived through the passage from the Hog's Head. Aberforth, Oliver Wood, Cho, Alicia, Katie, Angelina and Neville's grandmother were but a few of the faces they recognised.

From outside there was a thundering noise and they saw the instantly recognisable figure of Grawp walk past the windows.

"The've brought their own giants too." Hagrid arrived in the hall. "Grawpy's going the give us a hand with tha'."

"May luck be with you!" Dumbledore called after the teams of students, teachers and Order members as they left the hall to take up their positions.

"Let's go." Harry whispered to the three of them. Taking one last look at the Great Hall, they sprinted off out the doors and positioned themselves at the top of the staircase, waiting for whoever was going to come through first. Sure enough, there was a loud thumping noise and the great oak doors seemed to gradually buckle until a hole appeared in the middle. Hiding behind the balustrade, the four of them waited until they heard footsteps on the stairs before revealing their hiding place.

"STUPEFY!" the four of them cried, bursting forth to face the five Death Eaters that were making their way up the stairs. Flashes of green flew above their heads and they did not wait to see if they had hit anything, taking off down the passage and leading them further into the maze of corridors.

Ducking into an abandoned classroom, the waited as they heard what seemed to be a single set of footsteps walking up the stairs.

"Wait." Kathryn whispered and, before their eyes, she transformed into her animagus form. She returned to her normal self seconds later. "One," she told them, "halfway up the stairs. Smells like McNair." The four of them looked at her puzzled. "Wolf senses," she explained, "much finer than human ones."

"Stunners?" Harry asked.

"Couldn't I just tear him limb from limb?" Kathryn asked, feigning disappointment. "Give him a taste of his own medicine." She smiled wickedly in the darkness. "But alright." She raised her wand in front of her and led the way carefully out of the classroom. With the swiftest of movements she launched herself halfway down the stairs and, without uttering a cry, stunned him before she landed. Hermione instantly conjured chains and bound him securely in a broom cupboard; snapping his wand and locking the door on him.

"Not bad Hermione." Kathryn said as she raised her wand again, not wanting to be caught unawares.

"You're not too bad yourself."

"But not good enough." A cold voice sneered from behind them. They all whirled round to find them facing Antonin Dolohov. All they could do was dive out of the way. Harry ducked into the room on the left whilst Ron grabbed Hermione and practically fell into the room opposite. This only left Kathryn who, with nowhere to run, dodged the Cruciatus Curse that he sent at her.

"Incendio!" she cried, sending a bright jet of red flame out at him before he could open his mouth to send another curse her way. He shrieked in pain as the flames licked at his robes. In seconds, however, he had managed to extinguish them and was rounding upon her with his wand.

"PROTEGO!" Harry burst forth and created a shield between the two of them. His eyes flashing in anger, Dolohov turned and ran, ugly blisters appearing on his already twisted face. Following the noise of the ongoing battle, they found Ginny locked in battle with the great, brutish Rowle.

Running into the fray, Harry cast a shield charm between the duelling pair whilst Kathryn conjured a great, flaming snake that Harry had seen Voldemort use once. It circled Rowle, burning white hot and eventually engulfing him. His eyes flared in horror as the flames built; swallowing up his wand hand and turning him into a grotesque human torch. Once he was sufficiently disabled she extinguished the flames. The hallway was filled with the rancid smell of burning flesh as Harry, Ron and Hermione emerged. Hermione gave a small gasp of horror as she caught sight of Rowle's mangled body.

"Is he dead?" she whispered.

"No." Kathryn roughly shoved him into a room and locked the door. "But his wand's in cinders so he shouldn't be any more trouble."

"More importantly," Hermione gave her a searching look, "When did you learn to use Fiendfyre?"

"Does it matter?" she shrugged. "I found it in the Restricted Section if you must know. At the moment I think there are more important things to deal with." Cautiously, they made their way down the next corridor, wands raised and ready.

As soon as they reached the corner, the wall exploded in a fountain of dust and rubble.

"Run!" Harry yelled as another spell hit the wall on their left. The five of them scattered in different directions as they caught sight of about three Death Eaters waiting in the hall for them. Kathryn ran, her head bowed, at full pelt down the corridor as chunks of wall exploded above her when their spells missed.

"Sectumsempera!" she yelled, aiming her wand randomly over her shoulder as she ran. She heard a strangled cry; her spell had, amazingly, found a mark. Her euphoria at this, however, was soon stifled as she ran into the wall at the end of the corridor. Dazed, she crumpled to the floor in a heap and vainly tried to stand despite her spinning head as she heard approaching footsteps.

"Crucio." A sharp voice said and, seconds later, she felt as if a thousand hot knives were tearing at her flesh. She screamed wildly as the pain reached an unconceivable level and her head felt like it was fit to burst. Once the pain subsided, she caught a glimpse of the long, light brown hair flecked with grey that she knew belonged to Theodore Nott's father. She was too slow in reaching for her wand and her head exploded in pain again as he hit her with another dose of the curse.

"STUPEFY!" four voices cried behind him and, the next thing she knew several pairs of hands were pulling her up off the floor.

"You ok?" Harry asked her. "You're bleeding." She felt a small sting on her forehead.

"I'm fine." She brushed away the trickle of blood with her hand and looked down at the crumpled heap of Nott senior that now lay in the corner. "Thanks for that." She waved her wand and fine threads appeared; binding him tightly.

"Don't mention it." Ginny shrugged, turning to survey the corridor behind them, her wand raised. She let out a small gasp.

"What?" Ron asked as the rest of them turned to see what had shocked her. Their questions were answered when they saw the lifeless form lying in a large pool of deep red liquid.

"What did you do?" Hermione asked in a horrified whisper as they edged closer.

"One of Snape's handy little spells." She answered, looking down at the deep gashes that reached across Avery's neck and chest.

"But you killed him."

"He would have killed me." Kathryn reminded her. "I didn't think I'd hit anything." She deftly stepped over the pool of blood and continued on down the corridor. "Who was the other one?"

"Goyle Senior." Hermione told her. "But he scarpered when you hit Avery." They all raised their wands as they heard running footsteps getting closer.

"Neville! Luna!" they cried in surprise as their friends rounded the corner. "Are you ok?" Neville had a nasty black eye and Luna was sporting a deep cut along her arm.

"Fine. Been launching Snargaluff pods at them off Gryffindor Tower. They don't like that much!" Neville gasped. "What about you?"

"Just peachy." Kathryn commented sarcastically. "What's downstairs?"

"Plenty." Neville told them through ragged breaths. "Bellatrix Lestrange, Rodolphus Lestrange, Crabbe and Goyle's dads, Lucius Malfoy," Kathryn's heart skipped a beat, "and Greyback too. We saw them heading towards the doors."

"Right, let's go, and remember; stick together." Harry said, raising his wand and leading the charge into the hallway below.


	37. Chapter 37

A/N - The battle continues...

* * *

It was utter chaos in the Entrance Hall; rubies littered the floor where the giant Gryffindor hourglass had been hit by a jinx. There was another loud smash as emeralds joined the mess. There were Death Eaters and members of the Order running everywhere. Jets of brightly coloured light shot in all different directions as hexes and curses were exchanged. They stood, frozen, for a moment near the bottom of the stairs; neither side had seemed to notice they were there. Quickly scanning the room they found Bellatrix Lestrange duelling with Bill and Tonks duelling with her husband Rodolphus. Sirius was engaged in a bitter fight with Crabbe Senior and Rabastan Lestrange and it looked, for a horrifying moment, like they were going to overpower him. She immediately distinguished Lucius in the mêlée, despite his hood still being in place. He was locked in combat with Mr Weasley and she could see the hatred burning in Arthur's eyes as he parried and aimed curses at his opponent.

"STUPEFY!" Kathryn yelled, pointing her wand at Crabbe. At first she thought the spell had bounced off his bulk but no, he fell seconds later with an almighty crash. Of course, this ruined their element of surprise and several pairs of eyes flicked to where they stood. Before they could move an inch, there was a great bang, and the stairs beneath their feet exploded. Flung aside with great force, Kathryn was sure she felt something snap in her ankle, but ignored it as they extracted themselves from the wreckage as fast as they could.

"After them!" she heard Malfoy bellow.

"Run!" Hermione shrieked as Malfoy, Bellatrix and Rodolphus abandoned the person they were duelling, now lost in the smoke. The seven of them went tearing down the nearest corridor and split up as it branched off into various rooms. Hermione, Luna and Ron went one way and Harry and Neville the other. She had no choice but to keep on running, her cloak flying out behind her, until she reached the large classroom at the end of the hallway. In a vain attempt to hide herself, she ducked inside the large, empty fireplace that ran along the left wall. She took several deep, steadying breaths as she heard another set of footsteps enter the room.

"Come out, come out Potter." She heard Bellatrix Lestrange say in a horrible, playful tone. "Throw me your wand and I won't hurt you."

"Not bloody likely! IMPEDIMENTA!" she yelled, breaking her cover and aiming wildly at Bellatrix. Her jinx missed by several feet and sent rows of desks smashing off the walls.

"Crucio!" Bellatrix cried gleefully. Kathryn ducked back into the fireplace just in time as the carved stone exploded above her head. "You can't hide there forever!" she cackled, sending another curse her way and making more of the stone fireplace explode above her head. Kathryn took several deep breaths, the pain in her ankle was more obvious now, but she couldn't afford to let it bother her. She could only hope that her stiff boots would stop her damaging it much further.

"Stupefy!" Kathryn cried, dashing out from the fireplace to stand in the middle of the room. It missed but gave her enough time to get ready for Bellatrix's next curse.

"Impedimenta!" Bellatrix yelled. Kathryn did not move; she did not even dodge to avoid the jinx. She could see the shock and fury in Bellatrix's eyes as the spell just glanced off her body and hit the teacher's desk.

"Come, come," Kathryn taunted her, "I thought you were better than that. Voldemort won't be pleased with you for failing to succeed with the simplest of jinxes."

"How dare you speak his name you filthy little half-blood!" she shrieked manically. "Crucio!" she cried.

"PROTEGO!" Kathryn blocked the curse.

Without speaking, Kathryn waved her wand and sent a jet of fiery orange flame straight at Bellatrix. To Kathryn's disappointment, she deflected it with ease.

"Foolish child." Bellatrix chided, glaring menacingly at Kathryn. "Your powers are no match for mine." With a flick of her wand, she sent Kathryn flying backwards into the corner of the fireplace with such force that it cracked the stone. "I shall have to teach you a lesson." With a quick wave of her wand a fierce, bright purple flame erupted from the end of her wand and descended on Kathryn. She could feel the intense heat searing at her skin as the flame licked at her torso, and only hoped that the dragon hide would hold it back well enough. She gritted her teeth as it touched her shoulder and burned the unprotected flesh.

"Aguamenti." She managed to gasp; countering the flame with an icy jet of water that soothed the searing pain in her left shoulder. She stood once more, determined not to be defeated by such a foul woman; determined not to let her think she was weak.

"Well, well." A cold voice suddenly filled the room. "What have we here?" it was Lucius Malfoy.

"The Potter girl. She dares say our Master's name." Bellatrix spat.

"Really." Malfoy smirked. "Why don't you go find the Longbottom boy, Bella? I'm sure you'd like to collect the set. Leave this one to me." Bellatrix scurried off with a gleeful sneer on her face leaving Malfoy and Kathryn alone in the classroom, standing in the middle of the debris of the desks. The door behind him snapped shut and she heard a click of a lock. With a cruel smirk, he raised his wand and pointed it straight at her.

'Oh Merlin,' she thought, 'he is actually going to fight me.' A chill of fear spread through her body as she squared her shoulders, ignoring the searing pain in her shoulder, and raised her wand to match him. She turned slightly to the side, making herself less of a target and shielding her wounded side, but never taking her wand off him. He admired the way she stood; her shoulders back not unlike the way a wolf raised its hackles when threatened. After a few moments of this stand-off he smirked, lowered his wand, and crossed the room in a few strides. She recognised that smirk and, with one of her own, she lowered her wand and flung her arms around his neck. His lips sought hers with a desire stronger than he had ever felt and she seemed to respond with equal want.

"Don't do anything stupid and get yourself killed." She said, hugging him tight.

"Only if you do the same." He replied, stroking her hair.

"Promise." She murmured, stepping away. He nodded and disappeared back out the door. She did not follow him, instead climbing out of one of the large windows and slinking around the side of the castle, being careful to avoid the clumsy feet of the giants that were blundering around the grounds. She stopped by a window and saw McGonagall inside battling a very solid looking Goyle Senior.

"Reducto!" she cried, shattering the window and then, a split second later, transforming once again into her animagus form. Leaping through the window with ease she ran straight at Goyle and bit down hard on his leg before leaping further up and sinking her fangs into the soft flesh of his neck. He howled in pain and collapsed onto the floor, blood soaking his robes. Transforming back to her human self she quickly performed the necessary charm to staunch the blood flow and leave him alive. Slightly shaken, McGonagall stepped forward and had the man bound tightly in rope with a wave of her wand.

"What, might I ask was that Potter?" she asked in a shaky voice. "How long have you been an animagus?"

"Since February." She gasped.

"And are you registered?"

"No, but I don't think that is a major concern at this point." She said dryly as Crabbe Senior came charging through the door followed by Sirius.

"Sorry Minerva." Sirius said as they nearly bowled her over, sounding as if he had done no more than interrupt a lesson. "Won't be a moment. PETRIFICUs TOTALUS!" he yelled and, in comic fashion, Crabbe's arms and legs snapped together and he fell flat on his face as stiff as a board.

"What happened to Goyle?" he asked with a grimace as he secured Crabbe alongside Goyle, surveying Goyle's wounds.

"Your goddaughter." McGonagall said in an annoyed voice.

"What?"

"She's an Animagus." McGonagall explained. "A wolf, to be precise."

"When?" Sirius asked in disbelief.

"February." Kathryn shrugged. "It's not really important now." There was cry from the hallway that sent them all running. Hermione, Luna, Ginny and Neville were cowering in a corner as Fenrir Greyback advanced on them, his hideously yellowed teeth bared menacingly. Hermione was sporting what looked like a broken wrist and Neville had added a bloody nose to his already purple eye.

"Levicorpus!" Kathryn cried and, with a strangled yelp, Greyback was lifted bodily from the ground. With a quick swish of her wand, Kathryn sent him hurtling along the corridor and out of one of the large windows at the end.

"Thanks." Neville gasped.

"Where's Harry?" Sirius demanded, noticing the worrying absence of his god-son and Ron.

"Went with Ron." Hermione gasped. "The Lestranges were after them."

"Harry!" Kathryn cried, setting off at a run back down the corridor where she had last seen Harry. Sirius and Hermione followed not soon after.

Kathryn ran towards the sounds of a commotion and found Harry duelling Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange alone. Ron was slumped unconscious against the wall.

"Impedimenta!" Kathryn shouted, aiming her wand at Bellatrix who froze mid-curse. Sirius, meanwhile, was busy trying to dispatch of Rodolphus. With a slash of his wand a bright flash of blue light illuminated the room and sent Rodolphus flying off his feet with incredible force. He lay there, sprawled on the floor, and shuddered for a moment before becoming still. Harry, seizing that opportunity, grabbed Ron and dragged him from the room.

"You killed him." Harry gasped, dragging Ron behind him.

"It's war Harry." Sirius told him in a steely tone. "Besides, he might not be dead. That curse is unpredictable at best. It tends to do different things to incapacitate your foe each time. Enervate." He pointed his wand at Ron, whose eyelids fluttered open.

"Whassamatta!" he said, shaking his head and standing up.

"You took a bit of a bump." Harry told him as Hermione flung herself around his shoulders.

The battle raged on into the grounds, although it was impossible to tell who had the upper hand. They ran into Moody just beyond the castle steps. He was duelling three Death Eaters and was minus his revolving blue eye.

"Bloody Mulciber blasted it out." He growled as he stunned two of the Death Eaters. "Get undercover!"

They crept out of sight behind a clump of trees bordering the lake like Moody had ordered. To help the outnumbered Order members, they fired off curses from their hiding place, although the constantly moving battle made it more difficult to find their mark; they could not risk hitting one of the Order. Their interference, to their misfortune, was soon discovered.

There was a series of sharp pops behind them as people apparated and, before they had a chance to turn, a strong arm had wrapped itself securely around her throat. A second later, her wand was snatched from her hand.

"Look at the ickle babies hiding in the bushes!" a high pitched, demented voice cackled in glee. They knew the voice of Bellatrix Lestrange anywhere. Craning her neck as much as she could, Kathryn could see that four other Death Eaters had Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny immobilised in some fashion. Kathryn was thankful that Neville and Luna had gone a different way.

"Have fun." The man holding her said to the rest in a dark, merciless tone as she watched her friends all dragged off in different directions into the forest. Legs thrashing, she attempted to break her captor's hold around her neck as she too was dragged off into the seclusion of the trees. Her breathing became ragged and panicked as the Death Eater tightened his grip. She knew that, without a wand, she was just a girl. Her only response to an attack would be to run as she had not properly mastered wandless magic for duelling.

Trying to gauge where they were going, she looked at what she could see of her surroundings. He appeared to be dragging her deeper into the Forbidden Forest, away from the raging sounds of battle. The panic increased as her mind went over the possibilities. Was she being taken to Voldemort?

Suddenly, the choke-hold around her neck was released and she was unceremoniously dropped to the floor; banging her hip on a particularly gnarled root. Without thinking to see who had caught her, she scrabbled for cover across the forest floor, diving behind a fallen tree and waiting. The curses she had expected to hear did not come, and there was nothing but silence in the dense trees. Peering through a gap in the branches, she caught sight of a familiar blond head and the tip of a cane. Letting go an exasperated sigh, she stood and climbed back over the tree.

"I was wondering when you were going to come out." He remarked dryly as she walked towards him. "Here." He tossed her the wand he still held in his hand. She caught it deftly, but the scowl still remained on her face.

"You could've been slightly gentler." She replied, rubbing at her neck where he had dragged her along.

"I had to be convincing, didn't I?"

"True." She brushed the dirt off her jeans, sitting down beside him on the tree stump and resting her head on his shoulder. "I'd just rather this was over." He kissed her lightly on the forehead but, before he could reply, the sounds of people running through the forest reached their ears. Jumping to her feet, she dashed to the other side of the small clearing and turned to face him, levelling her wand at his chest. In response, he did the same, as they heard someone cry out her name.

"You ready for this?" she asked. He nodded in reply and, moving with lightning speed, they both cast their first spells.

The fiery light that illuminated the clearing as their curses met was blinding, sending sparks showering around their heads. It was this light that Harry, Ron and Hermione ran towards, having each extracted themselves from the clutches of the Death Eaters that had caught them. The sight that met their eyes amazed them. Kathryn was engaged in a duel with Lucius Malfoy, and it was no small one at that. All Harry could liken it to, as they watched, was a highly choreographed dance. They both twirled and dodged out of the way with precision, their spells meeting with such force that the ground shook. Catching sight of the three of them watching from behind a tree, Kathryn decided to try something that she had only seen one person do. Concentrating on the incantation, she pointed her want at herself and, after a moments pause when she thought that it hadn't worked, she took off into the air across the clearing.

"Impedimenta!" she cried as she soared over Lucius' head and landed next to Harry. With him frozen momentarily, Kathryn cast him one last glance over her shoulder as they pelted off back through the trees, towards the grounds and the battle they could not afford to lose.


	38. Chapter 38

A/N - And still they fight...

* * *

They kept on running, Ron limping slightly thanks to a twisted ankle, only stopping to duel. It was only now that they seemed to fully appreciate the scale of the castle grounds. Skirting the lake, they aimed to approach the main battle from behind until, shockingly simultaneously, they all fell flat.

"Trip jinx, Potter." A voice drawled from behind a bush. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle stepped out. "Thought you'd have learnt."

"Tarantallegra!" Hermione shouted swiftly, hitting Malfoy squarely in the chest. Malfoy's legs immediately went into an uncontrollable quickstep.

"STUPEFY!" Harry and Ron cried simultaneously, sending Crabbe and Goyle flying. Malfoy, by now, had managed to utter the counter curse and had already levelled his wand at the four of them.

"Cruci-."

"PROTEGO!" Kathryn cried, managing to deflect the curse just in time. "Dear me Malfoy," she shook her head, "using unforgiveables. That will land you in Azkaban if you're not careful." Her voice was caustic.

"Avada Kedavra." Malfoy spat. They reacted too slowly. Kathryn was knocked off her feet by a blast of green light.

"NO!" Harry and Hermione cried.

"I'm fine." To their amazement she stood up, sporting no more than a bloody nose. "He's not got the backbone for that kind of stuff." She commented scathingly, wiping the blood dripping from her nose with her sleeve.

"Yes I do!" Malfoy screamed. "Crucio!" this curse hit both Harry and Kathryn; sending them falling to the floor in pain, their scars burning on their foreheads. "Not so tough now are you?" he laughed coldly.

"Petrificus Totalus!" Ron shouted angrily, the spell missing Malfoy but distracting him enough to stop the Cruciatus curse that he was using on Harry and Kathryn. Their scars stopped burning and they lay on the grass, panting for breath.

"EXPELLIARMUS!" Kathryn and Harry yelled at the same time, sending his wand flying out of his hand. Grabbing the flying piece of wood, Kathryn tucked it into one of her cloak pockets.

"Petrificus Totalus!" Ron followed, hitting him with a jet of red light. "You are absolutely pathetic!" Ron shouted at Malfoy, giving him a sharp kick in the ribs. "You're bloody lucky we're in good moods otherwise we'd be killing you instead of sending you to the Dementors.

"Ron, come on." Hermione tugged on his sleeve. Ron, scowling, gave Malfoy one final kick before following the rest of them.

All of a sudden, the sounds of battle deadened a silence only Dementors could bring was sweeping through the night; engulfing them like fog. Swirling figures of pure darkness appeared all around, moving in a ghastly procession towards the castle; their faces hooded and their breath rattling. Cold, sharper than broken glass, permeated what would have been a pleasant summer's night.

"Come on," Hermione whispered behind them, "Patronuses, come on!" Harry and Kathryn raised their wands but an acute hopelessness filled them; how many lay dead around them, how many had sacrificed themselves?

"COME ON!" Hermione screamed.

A hundred Dementors were advancing, following the scent of Harry and Kathryn's despair like an animal sniffing out fresh meat. Ron's terrier and Hermione's otter both burst into the air but flickered feebly and died. All Harry and Kathryn could do was stand with their wands trembling in their hands.

"Think of something happy." Hermione pleaded.

"Happy?" Harry's voice cracked.

"We're still here, we're still fighting." She whispered. "Come on!"

There were silver sparks in the oppressive blackness, then a wavering light, and then, with almost exhausting effort, a charging silver stag and a wolf burst from the ends of Harry and Kathryn's wands. Dashing forwards, they made the Dementors scatter wildly and the sounds of the battle reached their ears once more, the fresh night air refreshing on their faces as they took deep, steadying breaths.

They did not have time to speak as, with a roar and an earth-quaking tremor, a giant blundered out of the darkness.

"RUN!" Harry yelled, and they scattered as a gigantic foot landed exactly where they had been standing.

"Get out of range!" Ron yelled as the giant swung its club dangerously close, its cries of rage carrying across the grounds to where flashes of red and green light continued to illuminate the darkness like fireworks.

"The Whomping Willow!" Hermione yelled. "Go!" levitating a twig with her wand, she sent it zooming towards the knot that paralysed the branches. At once the tree went still and, before thinking about what they knew lay at the end of the passage, they dived in.

They knew Voldemort lay at the end of the tunnel, one of the binding flashes of pain that shot through their scars had shown them his hiding place. He wanted them to come to him and they needed to get to him to kill the snake. There were no other options left. They wriggled forwards through the narrow passage on their hands and knees, led by the narrow beam of light that Harry had coming from the end of his wand.

"Put the cloaks on!" Hermione hissed. They readily obeyed, throwing on the silky material. Extinguishing the wand, they moved forwards again, continually expecting to be discovered and to see a flash of green light.

Leaving Ron and Hermione back in the passage, Harry and Kathryn continued on into the Shrieking Shack, listening to the voices coming from the room directly in front of them.

"My Lord," it was Snape, "let me find them. Let me bring you the Potters, I know I can find them." Peering through a crack, they could see Nagini floating in the air, twisting and coiling, encased in a protective, shining bubble. Voldemort's pallor seemed to radiate through the darkness as he stood and paced the room.

"They will come to me Severus." He did not seem concerned that they had not appeared. "Do you know why I have summoned you from battle?"

"No, my Lord, but I beg you let me return. Let me find the Potter brats." They had never seen their normally demanding teacher so supplicant.

"You do not understand them as I do. They do not need finding; they will come willingly to me. They will hate seeing others struck down around them, knowing that they are the cause. They will want to stop it at any cost; that is their flaw. They will come."

"But my Lord, they might be killed accidentally."

"My instructions to my Death Eaters have been perfectly clear, Severus. Capture the Potters, kill their friends by all means, but leave them unharmed." Had this been any other situation, Kathryn would have pointed out that Draco Malfoy hasn't seemed to care as he's tried his luck with the killing curse.

"I can bring them to you, my Lord, they trust me, think me their ally." Snape pleaded; a tone of voice that they had never heard him use.

"You have been a good servant, Severus, but I grow tired of your duplicity." Voldemort paced the room, the swish of his robes sounding like the slither of a snake. Snape's face was like a death mask; marble white and it was hard to believe that someone still lived behind those black eyes. "I highly doubt that the man that pleaded with me to spare the life of a Mudblood will be so eager to bring me her children; the children who have constantly thwarted me." Snape did not speak; he seemed to have accepted whatever was coming. "I'm sorry it had to come to this."

"My Lord." Snape protested as Voldemort swished his wand through the air. Nothing happened, the killing blow did not fall, but then the true nature of the spell became clear. The snake's cage was rolling through the air and, before Snape could do anything, it had encased him.

"Kill." The command, spoken in Parseltongue, was incomprehensible to Snape but comprehension swiftly appeared in his dark eyes.

There was a terrible scream. The little remaining colour drained from Snape's face, his eyes widening in horror as the great snake's fangs slipped easily into the exposed flesh of his neck.

"I regret it." said Voldemort coldly. There was no sadness in him, no remorse. It was time to leave the shack and take charge. He pointed his wand at the cage that encased Nagini and it drifted up off Snape to hover in the air once more. Blood gushed from Snape's wounds but Voldemort paid it no heed as he swept from the room, Nagini floating along behind him.

Harry could hear Kathryn's frightened, rapid breathing from beside him as they waited for Voldemort to be completely gone. Once it seemed safe, she burst from beneath her cloak and dashed into the room as quietly as she could, towards the broken man lying in a pool of his blood. She fell to her knees beside him, not caring for the viscous red liquid that soaked through her jeans. Harry, Ron and Hermione followed, bewildered, as she moved his hand that had been trying to staunch the blood flow and began to run her wand over the deep puncture wounds in his neck, muttering under her breath. A terrible rasping, gurgling noise echoed around the empty room.

"Take…it…Take…it…" something more than blood was leaking from Snape. Silvery blue, neither gas nor liquid, it gushed from his mouth and his ears and his eyes. Harry knew what it was, having seen it many times before, but didn't know what to do. Hermione stepped forwards with a small vial and scooped the silvery element into it with her wand.

"Oh no you don't," Kathryn murmured as Snape grew paler still, fishing around in the concealed pockets in her cloak, throwing Malfoy's wand aside as she did so, "you're not ending like this." They watched, astonished, as she poured a generous amount of Dittany on the wound. She never took her gaze off his, hoping to keep him conscious for as long as possible.

"Lily…" he whispered so that only she could hear. "Lily…" Eventually, the blood flow stopped, but Snape had already succumbed to unconsciousness. He was still breathing, however, and Kathryn began to drag him towards the hidden passage.

"Come on, back to the castle." She grunted. "Locomotor mortis." She whispered, Snape's body hovering off the ground and following her as she crawled.

As they emerged back into the grounds, the battle appeared to have stopped. It was then that a high, cold voice rent the air, making them jump, thinking that Voldemort was behind them.

"You have fought," said the voice, "valiantly. Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery. Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me you will die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a loss and a waste." There was a pause in which not a sound flitted across the grounds. "Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat immediately and I give you one hour to dispose of your dead with dignity and to treat your injured." They didn't want to think of how many there could be dead.

"I speak now, Harry and Kathryn Potter, directly to you. You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourselves. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, if you have not given yourselves up, then battle recommences. This time I shall enter the fray myself and I shall punish every last man, woman and child who tries to conceal you from me. One hour." The voice was gone as abruptly as it came.

"Don't even think about it." Hermione said sternly, seeing the looks on their faces. "We need to get back to the castle."

The ability to move rediscovered; they hurried up to the castle with Snape floating along beside them.

"Where is everyone?" Hermione whispered as they stepped into the Entrance Hall. The castle was oddly quiet, no flashes of light illuminating everything. Rubies and emeralds still littered the floor, which was heavily bloodstained, along with pieces of rubble from where the stairs had been hit whilst they were on them. Ron led the way into the Great Hall where the survivors had gathered.

The house tables had been pushed aside and the survivors stood in groups, some supported by others, whilst the dead lay in the middle of the hall. Madam Pomfrey was treating the injured up on the raised platform where the teachers usually sat. Kathryn saw Firenze amongst the injured, his flank pouring with blood, as she ran towards the dais with Snape. Leaving him in the hands of Madam Pomfrey, she rushed back to Harry who was holding the little bottle with Snape's memories.

"Let's see what he wanted us to." Leaving Ron and Hermione with the Weasleys who were huddled together, thankfully all still alive, they ran through the deserted castle, not stopping for breath until they reached the stone gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's office.

"Password."

"Sugar Quill." They both said, dashing up the stairs as soon as they were visible.

Dumbledore's office was still, all of the portraits empty, their occupants probably trying to see what was going on in the castle. The stone pensieve lay in the cabinet where it had always been and Harry poured the memories into it, eager and anxious to see what they contained. Without hesitating, they grasped each others hands and dived headfirst into the swirling sea of memories.


	39. Chapter 39

A/N - The final sacrifice...

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They emerged onto the dusty rug, finally, with the whole truth. They were not supposed to survive. They had to walk into death's arms and not raise a wand in their defence. Then the job that was supposed to be done in Godric's Hollow would be done, neither would live, neither could survive. They lay on the floor with terror flooding through their veins; their hearts now like funeral drums, counting out their final beats. Would it hurt to die? All those times they had escaped had made their will to live stronger than their fear of death. It was all over, they knew it, and all that was left was to die.

Their lives had been filled with moments where they'd had to be brave, but why couldn't they have ended it by launching themselves in front of someone they loved? This cold-blooded walk to their own destruction would take a different kind of bravery.

All Harry wished that he could have spent an hour with each person that he loved, especially Ginny, but then it would be even harder to say goodbye. Kathryn's mind was filled with the same thoughts; admittedly her mind was on a certain Death Eater. Somehow she knew that he would be there, he would be there to see her end. She would never be able to say goodbye; to tell him that she forgave him. She worried also for how he would react. Could he keep his composure as the woman that she would like to believe he loved walked so willingly to her death? She was very glad that she had saved Snape, and she understood why he had called her Lily.

"Can we do this?" Harry finally asked; his voice shaky.

"We can, we have to." She replied, her voice hollow.

"Someone has to kill the snake, we can't."

"We'll find someone." She reassured him, blinking back tears as she stood up. Nearly half an hour of the allotted time had passed. They did not look back as they walked out of the office. It was time to end it.

They walked through the deserted corridors under the cover of Harry's invisibility cloak, wanting to be together in this final act. Everything was focused on the Great Hall where the dead and the mourners were gathered. Something inside them wished that they would be seen, stopped, but the cloak was as infallible as ever and they reached the front doors easily.

Then Neville appeared as one half of a pair carrying a body in from the grounds. Harry's heart gave a lurch as he saw the still face of Dennis Creevey. Guilt washed over him, Dennis, along with his brother Colin, had always been there to speak up for them and now he had given his life for them. Looking towards the Great Hall, they could see nothing of the people they loved. There was no hint of Hermione, Ron, Ginny or Luna. Harry could tell from the wistful look on Kathryn's face that she felt the same way. They would give anything for one last look, but would they be able to look away?

"You know what Neville," said Oliver Wood, who had been helping Neville with Dennis' body, "I can manage him myself." He hoisted Dennis over his shoulder and bore him off into the Great Hall whilst Neville returned outside. The grounds were still as they followed him out, as if they were waiting with bated breath to see if they could do what they must.

"Neville." Harry whipped off the cloak, catching their friend up.

"Blimey, Harry, this isn't the time to sneak up on people like that. You nearly gave me a heart attack!" Harry didn't know what had made him pull of the cloak, save for the desire to be absolutely certain.

"Where are you two going alone?" Neville asked suspiciously, regarding them carefully in the dim light.

"It's all part of the plan." Kathryn reassured him.

"Listen, Neville," Harry tried to explain but Neville cut him off.

"You're not thinking of handing yourselves over, are you?" Neville looked terrified at this prospect.

"No, we're doing something else." Kathryn said quickly in a firm, reassuring tone.

"We're just not going to be around for a while." Harry explained, "You know Voldemort's snake?" Harry asked.

"I've heard of it, yeah."

"He calls it Nagini. It's got to be killed, Neville. Ron and Hermione know but I just wanted to make sure, in case they-." Harry could not finish the sentence. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to remain cool; they had to have a back up. "Just in case they're busy, and you get the chance…"

"Kill the snake?" Neville finished.

"Kill the snake."

"OK, Harry. You're both ok, aren't you?" he shot them a concerned look.

"We're fine." Kathryn nodded.

"We're going to keep fighting you know." Neville went on, grasping their hands. "You know that, don't you?"

"Yeah, we-." But Harry and Kathryn could not finish. Neville seemed to understand and let them disappear back beneath the cloak.

They passed Ginny, helping a girl who had been injured, Kathryn pulling Harry on to stop him going to her.

"If you keep on looking you'll never be able to stop." She whispered in his ear as Ginny managed to lift the girl up and help her towards the doors.

They passed Hagrid's hut, trying not to think of al the times they had been met by Fang's booming bark and Hagrid's friendly smile. Never again. They reached the edge of the Forest and stopped. There was a swarm of Dementors gliding amongst the trees and neither of them had the strength for a Patronus. Both of them were trembling, after all, it was not so easy to die. Harry's hand closed on the old snitch that Dumbledore had given him and, finally, understood the meaning of the words. Taking the snitch out of his pocket, he pressed it to his lips and murmured.

"I am about to die." This was the close. The shell split open and revealed a broken black stone, cracked straight down the middle. Harry understood that it was not about bringing them back, for they were about to join them. They were fetching them. Taking Kathryn's hand, they both turned the stone over three times.

There was a faint noise around them, as if frail bodies were shifting their weight on the twig-strewn ground. They turned around to find their mother and father standing before them. They were neither ghost nor flesh, rather like the Riddle that had escaped from the diary in second year. Both faces bore wide smiles. James was exactly the same height as Harry, his hair the same dishevelled black and his glasses were just slightly lopsided. Lily's smile was the widest. She pushed her long hair back as she drew closer to them, just like Kathryn did when she was trying to work something out. She was so like her daughter it was uncanny, just like Harry resembled James. The only differences were that Kathryn's hair was black and slightly longer and she was thinner than her mother had been. She was looking at them hungrily, as if she would never be able to look at them enough.

"You've been so brave."

They could not speak, their eyes feasting on their image. They thought they would be able to stand there and look at them forever.

"You're nearly there," said James, "very close. We are so proud of you."

"Does it hurt?" Harry blurted out the childish question before he could stop himself. Kathryn had to admit that she was thinking the same thing too.

"Quicker and easier than falling asleep," their father replied, "and he will want it to be quick. He wants it to be over."

"You'll stay with us?" Kathryn asked in a small voice, unlike any way Harry had ever heard her speak.

"Until the very end." James nodded, gazing at his daughter in adoration.

"They won't be able to see you?"

"We are part of you," Lily replied kindly, "invisible to anyone else." A chilly breeze seemed to emanate from the heart of the forest. They knew that they would not tell them to go, it would be their decision.

"Stay close." Harry said, gazing intently at his mother.

They set off. The Dementors chill did not overcome them, they passed through it with their companions and they were like Patronuses to them. Together they marched through the closely grouped, ancient trees with tangled branches and gnarled, entwined roots. They walked without any idea as to where Voldemort was but sure that they would find him. Beside them, making next to no sound, were James and Lily, and their presence was their courage and the reason they could put one foot in front of the other and keep going.

Twigs cracked and leaves crunched as something stirred nearby. Standing stock still, they waited for whoever it was to appear. Sure enough, Yaxley and Dolohov appeared from behind a tree, both of them with their wands drawn.

"Do you think it could be them?" Yaxley asked. "They do have those blasted cloaks."

"Animal I reckon." Dolohov replied, the burns from the flames Kathryn had used against him quite apparent on his Azkaban ravaged face.

"Time's nearly up." Yaxley went on, looking at his watch.

"He was sure they'd come, he won't be happy."

"Let's get back, find out what the plan is now." The two Death Eaters moved off and, as silently as possible, Harry and Kathryn followed, knowing that they would lead them where they needed to go. Before long, they emerged in the clearing that had once been home to Aragog, now taken over by Death Eaters to serve their purpose. A great fire flickered in the middle and two giants sat at the side, casting shadows over everything. Rodolphus had, apparently, survived Sirius' curse and was now sitting, slightly pale, not far from Lucius. It appeared that, whilst fighting, the Death Eaters had worked to free those captured. They had sustained losses, true, but Kathryn was slightly overwhelmed by the number still alive after all their efforts.

"No sign of them my Lord." Said Dolohov as he and Yaxley rejoined the group. Kathryn had to work hard not to gaze at Lucius as he sat watching the flames intently.

Voldemort did not reply, instead gazing into the fire, his red eyes seemingly burning.

"I thought they would come," he finally said in his cold, clear voice, "I expected them to yield."

Trembling all over, Harry cast off the invisibility cloak and stuffed it under his clothes, along with his wand. He did not want the temptation. He watched as Kathryn did the same, stuffing her wand beneath her armour.

"I was mistaken." Voldemort sounded almost disappointed.

"You weren't." Harry was the one to speak, saying it with all the force he could as they walked into the clearing. The stone slipped from their fingers and they saw their mother and father vanish. It was just them and Voldemort now.

That illusion was soon gone. The giants roared and the Death Eaters rose as one. Voldemort had frozen where he stood, his red eyes settling upon the children that had plagued him for the past twenty years. They moved forwards so that there was nothing but the fire between them.

"HARRY! KATHRYN! NO!" a voice rent the air. It was Hagrid, bound securely to a nearby tree. His body shook the trunk as he tried to free himself.

"NO! NO! WHAT ARE YEH DOIN'?"

"QUIET!" bellowed Yaxley and, with a flick of his wand, Hagrid was forced into silence.

Harry and Kathryn could both see Nagini, coiling and slithering in her cage, but made no attempt to kill her. They would be dead before they even reached their wands.

"Harry Potter." Voldemort finally spoke. "Kathryn Potter." He acknowledged them both with a slight nod of his head. His voice was so quiet it was almost indistinguishable from the spitting and crackling of the fire that stood between them. "The children who lived."

No one moved; all were waiting to see what happened. Even the forest itself seemed to still in anticipation of what was to come. Harry thought inexplicably of Ginny and her blazing look, the feel of her lips on his. Kathryn thought, very carefully, of the man not standing far from her. He had a look of shock on his face, as if he could sense what she was about to do. Catching his eyes for the briefest of moments, she tried to say she was sorry, to let him know how she felt. All she could think of was how it felt when he held her, the sweet oblivion that came when he kissed her. It pained her to think that she would never feel it again. She wanted Voldemort to do it now, before they betrayed fear, before they lost the will to stay standing.

Voldemort regarded them closely, tilting his head to the side like a curious child, as if he was assessing what would happen if he proceeded. The red eyes seemed to burn into theirs. Harry took Kathryn's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze as the stood there calmly accepting their mortality. They saw the slit-like mouth move and a flash of green light, and then everything was gone.


	40. Chapter 40

A/N - My apologies for making you wait...I have an essay due in for next week but I want to finish by Friday and i am nowhere near there!! But, after all, it wouldn't be fun without a bit of suspense!! I hope you enjoy this chapter, please read, review and spread the word if you enjoy it!

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They were lying face down on the ground. The smell of the forest filled their nostrils and the ground was cold against their skin. They relished the feeling of the mossy ground beneath their hands. Harry resisted the temptation to move, despite the pain of the bridge of his glasses, knocked askew by the fall, digging into his face. Kathryn ached, the spot where the killing curse had hit felt like the bruise of an iron clad punch. They had expected cheers of triumph but instead all they heard was concerned muttering. Opening her eye a fraction, she saw Bellatrix Lestrange kneeling anxiously beside Voldemort. Apparently, he had fallen when they had, and they had all returned. Closing her eyes tight again, Kathryn waited to see what happened next.

Lucius stood behind Voldemort, along with the other Death Eaters, willing himself not to lose control. She had fallen, lifeless, next to her brother and had not moved again. He thought the pain would make his heart shatter. He had always treasured a hope that she would survive, that somehow, she would be able to come back to him. It now seemed that this was not to be so. He wanted to go to her, to cradle her in his arms, but he knew that such a movement would cost him his life. He finally understood what she had said about nobility, all that while ago. Nobility could not be measured by blood or family, but by actions.

"Are they dead?" Voldemort asked as they heard him get to his feet. Harry could feel their concentrated gaze on them and was careful not to move a muscle, despite the fact that his heart beat so fast in his chest.

"Examine them. Tell me whether they are dead." Voldemort ordered some unseen Death Eater. For the first time, they heard uncertainty in his voice. Kathryn could tell that he suspected that something had not gone to plan as he did not wish to approach them. All she could do was remain still as someone advanced across the clearing. Whoever it was seemed to first inspect Harry before coming to kneel next to her. A finger pulled back an eyelid to give her a glimpse of a familiar mane of blond hair. A very familiar hand crept beneath her burned top to find her heart beating fast and strong beneath it.

"Do you trust me?" the whisper was barely audible but it meant everything to her.

"Yes." She breathed back, not even allowing her lips to move. The hand remained there for a moment longer before it was withdrawn and the person stood up.

"They are dead!" Lucius Malfoy cried to the onlookers. Harry could barely contain his shock. Why had Lucius Malfoy, of all people, done such a thing?

Now they shouted; crying their triumph up to the star-laden sky. They saw bursts of green and silver light behind their eyelids as they celebrated.

"You see!" Voldemort cried. "Harry and Kathryn Potter are dead by my hand! No one can threaten me now! Watch! Crucio!" Kathryn could do nothing as Harry was hit and all Harry could do was feign death. Yet the pain he had expected did not come. He was thrown a couple of times in the air but he remained floppy and lifeless. Kathryn had the same experience; the jeering and laughing from the crowd sickening her to the stomach. It was disgusting that they derived pleasure from such an act. She could hear Hagrid's loud sobs in the background and wished that there was a way to convey that they were alright. Lucius could barely watch as she was so ill treated, yet he forced himself to laugh so as not to cause suspicion.

"Now," Voldemort spoke again, "to the castle. To show them what has become of their heroes, of those on whom they depended so much. Who shall drag the bodies? No, wait…" there was more laughter and, after a few moments, they felt the ground tremble.

"Carry them," Voldemort's voice was dripping with cruel delight, "They will be nice and visible in your arms, will they not? Pick up your little friends, Hagrid. And the glasses, do not forget those, they must be recognisable. Their defeat must be seen."

Harry and Kathryn's glasses, which had fallen off when their supposed corpses were humiliated, were roughly shoved onto their faces. The next set of hands to touch them, although giant, were infinitely gentle. They could feel Hagrid's heaving sobs as he lifted them and great tears splashed down. No matter how much they wished, they could not tell Hagrid that they were alright, that all was not yet lost.

"Move." Voldemort said coldly, and Hagrid began to move off through the trees. As they were so close in Hagrid's arms, Kathryn managed to give Harry's hand the briefest of squeezes to tell him that she was alive. Harry, filled with hope, squeezed back. The Death Eaters around them crowed their triumph as Hagrid sobbed and no one bothered to verify that no pulse beat in the necks of Harry and Kathryn Potter.

"BANE!" Hagrid's bellow nearly made them open their eyes. "Happy now, are yeh, ye cowardly bunch o' nags? Are yeh happy they're d-dead…" Hagrid could not continue, but instead broke down in a fresh wave of sobbing. They kept on walking, some of the Death Eaters calling insults at the centaurs as they moved on. A little later, both Harry and Kathryn could tell that they had reached the edge of the forest as the air was fresh and clear once again.

"Stop." Hagrid must have been forced to obey Voldemort's order as he lurched to a halt and waited obediently. Someone passed close by and they knew it was Voldemort, for he made so little sound as he walked, he might have been a snake moving across the fallen leaves. Seconds later, he spoke, his magically magnified voice filling their eardrums.

"Harry and Kathryn Potter are dead. They were killed as they ran away, trying to save themselves while your ready yourselves to die for them. We bring you their bodies as proof of their defeat."

"The battle is won. You have lost half your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you and the children who lived are finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman or child, will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family. Come out of the castle, now, kneel before me, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will live, and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together."

Threw was silence across the grounds and from the castle. The pair of them did not dare breathe for fear that Voldemort would see.

"Come." Their macabre procession moved on, Harry opening his eyes wide enough to make out Voldemort walking in front of them with Nagini draped over his shoulders. All Hagrid could do was sob.

"Oh Harry…Kathryn…"

"Stop." The Death Eaters and Hagrid all came to a halt and Harry and Kathryn heard them spreading out in a line facing the open front doors of the school. Harry and Kathryn could both see a reddish glow from behind their eyelids, which meant that light was streaming forth from the Entrance Hall. Any moment, the people for whom they had tried to die would see them, lying apparently dead, in Hagrid's arms.

"NO!" the scream which issued from in front of them was more terrible than anything they could've imagined, partially because they had never thought that Professor McGonagall could make such a sound. The Death Eaters revelled in the despair they caused; Bellatrix's cackle distinctly audible. Squinting again for a single second, they could see the survivors coming out onto the front steps, to face their vanquishers, and to see proof of Harry and Kathryn's death. They saw Voldemort standing in front of them, stroking Nagini's head with a single white finger and hastily shut their eyes.

"No!"

"No!"

"Harry! Kathryn!" Ron, Ginny and Hermione's screams were worse than McGonagall's and they wanted nothing more than to cry back, but they forced themselves to remain silent. Their cries acted as a trigger, the crowd of survivors taking up the cause, screaming and yelling abuse at the Death Eaters until a more powerful cry filled the night.

"SILENCE!" yelled Voldemort, there was a bang, and silence was forced upon them all. "It is over! Set them down, Hagrid, at my feet, where they belong." Though the voice that spoke was full of hate, they were lowered onto the grass with infinite care.

"You see?" said Voldemort triumphantly, striding back and forth right beside where they lay. "Harry and Kathryn Potter are dead! Do you understand now? They were nothing but a boy and girl who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for them!" Lucius thought his heart would split in two at these words. He knew that she was brave, he had put that to the test, and what these children, as his master put it, had done tonight had been courage beyond measure.

"They beat you!" Ron yelled defiantly and the charm broke; the screaming and shouting beginning again until they were silenced by a second, more powerful bang.

"They were killed while trying to sneak out of the grounds," from their prone position they could hear how much he relished telling the lie, "killed while trying to save themselves. They ran like cowards and left you here to die. " There was a scuffle and a shout from the crowd, followed by a bang, a flash of light and a grunt of pain. Opening her eyes an infinitesimal amount, Kathryn saw that someone had broken free and charged at Voldemort. The figure fell to the ground, disarmed, and Voldemort threw aside the challenger's wand and laughed a high, mirthless laugh.

"And who is this?" he asked in his snakelike hiss. "Who has volunteered to demonstrate what happens to those who continue to fight when the battle is lost?" Bellatrix cackled manically.

"It is Neville Longbottom, my Lord!" she cackled. "The son of the Aurors."

"Ah, yes," mused Voldemort, looking down at Neville who was struggling back to his feet, wandless and facing Voldemort, standing in the no-man's-land between the fearful survivors and the triumphant Death Eaters. "But you are a Pure-blood, aren't you?" Voldemort asked Neville, who stood facing him, his empty hands curled in fists.

"So what if I am?" Neville declared loudly, shrugging his shoulders casually.

"You show strength and bravery, and you come of noble stock. You will make a very valuable addition to my followers. We need your kind, Neville Longbottom."

"They were from the noblest stock of all." Neville's voice shook with conviction and sadness, pointing a finger at the bodies on the ground. "And I'll join you when hell freezes over," he finished defiantly, making Harry and Kathryn wish they could smile, "Dumbledore's Army!" he cried, and there was an answering cheer from the crowd which Voldemort's silencing charms were seemingly unable to affect.

"Very well," Voldemort's voice held more danger in its silky, calm tones than was contained in the killing curse, "if that is your choice, Longbottom, on your head be it." his wand slashed through the air and, with excitement in their eyes, the Death Eaters waited for the killing blow.

Watching through their eyelashes, Harry and Kathryn heard one of the castle windows shatter and a lumpy, misshapen object flew into Voldemort's outstretched hand. In the half light that came from the windows of the Entrance Hall, they could see the Sorting Hat in Voldemort's white hand.

"There will be no more Sorting at Hogwarts," he declared, "there will be no more houses. The emblem, shield and colour of my noble ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, will suffice for everyone."

He pointed his wand at Neville, who grew rigid and still, and forced the Sorting Hat onto his head until it covered his eyes. There were movements from several people amongst the crowd and, as one; the Death Eaters raised their wands, keeping the fighters of Hogwarts at bay.

"Neville here is now going to demonstrate what happens to those reckless enough to oppose me." Voldemort explained with a cruel smile. With a flick of his wand, the Sorting Hat burst into flames.

Screams split the dawn and Neville was aflame, rooted to the spot and unable to move. They could not bear it any longer, they had to act.

Then several things happened at once.

There was a great thundering of footsteps and Grawp lumbered around the side of the castle and yelled, "HAGGER!" Voldemort's giants immediately charged Grawp like bull elephants, making the ground tremble.

There as uproar from the distant boundary of the school and what sounded like hundreds of people came pelting towards the castle, uttering loud war cries. Then came hooves and the twang of bows, and arrows were suddenly falling amongst the Death Eaters, who broke ranks and scattered. Harry and Kathryn, seizing the moment of chaos, whipped their invisibility cloaks out and swung them over themselves as Neville, too, moved.

In one swift, fluid motion, Neville broke free of the Body-Bind curse that Voldemort had laid upon him. The flaming hat fell off his head and he drew from its depths something silver with a glittering, rubied handle.

The slash of the blade could not be heard over the pandemonium, yet it seemed to draw everyone's eye. With a single stroke, Neville sliced off the great snake's head and everyone watched as it spun high in the air; its glittering eyes suddenly empty of life. Voldemort's mouth was open in a scream that no one could hear as Nagini's body thudded to the ground at his feet.

Hidden beneath his invisibility cloak, Harry cast a shield charm between Neville and Voldemort before the latter could raise his wand. Kathryn, meanwhile, whipped her wand out from beneath her armour and deflected a curse that was heading straight for Lucius. Over the din, one voice sounded louder than any other.

"HARRY!" Hagrid yelled over the cries of students and Death Eaters alike. "KATHRYN! WHERE'S HARRY AND KATHRYN?"

Kathryn did not stop as she ran through the battle, avoiding curses and arrows as she neared her target. Steps away from him, Kathryn opened the cloak and flung it over the one person who, at that point, mattered to her more than anything. No one cared enough to notice that Lucius Malfoy was there one moment, and gone the next.

Before he could say anything, she dragged him away from the thick of the battle, everyone too busy to notice the two pairs of feet that stuck out of the bottom of the cloak as he was taller than her. Once she stopped running, he turned to look at her, his eyes drinking in her face; flushed and so full of life. She was bruised and bloodied, yes, but very much alive.

"I thought you were dead." He finally managed to say, his voice cracking slightly. In response, she kissed him, flinging her arms around his neck and clinging on as if she would never let go.

"So did I." She whispered in his ear. "Although the next time I might not be so lucky." She added as they finally separated.

"Then be careful." He told her sternly, kissing her again.

"You too." With a fleeting smile, she pulled the invisibility cloak off him and disappeared back into the fray.

Chaos reigned. The charging centaurs were scattering the Death Eaters and everyone was fleeing the giants blundering feet. Out of the air, great winged creatures flew around the heads of Voldemort's giants; Buckbeak and Thestrals scratching at their eyes whilst Grawp pummelled them. Wizards, defenders of Hogwarts and Death Eaters alike, were now being forced back into the castle. Kathryn had found Harry, noticing the spot from where jinxes were suddenly appearing from thin air, and they were doing their utmost to protect those who had so valiantly fought for them.

Hidden under their cloaks, they were buffeted into the Entrance Hall where they found Voldemort, firing off spells and screaming orders to his Death Eaters. They cast more shield charms and his would be victims, Seamus and Hannah, darted past him and into the Great Hall where the battle continued to rage. They were overcoming the Death Eaters, that was for certain, but it was not over yet.

Voldemort was in the middle of it all, shrieking and smiting all within reach, but they could not get off a clear shot. They saw Fred, George and Lee Jordan flooring Yaxley, whilst Dolohov was felled by Flitwick. They saw Lupin and Sirius bringing down Fenrir Greyback, Aberforth stunning Rookwood and Tonks and Luna taking out Rabastan Lestrange. Ron was engaged in an impressive duel with Draco Malfoy, who was duelling with a stolen wand, finally getting him back for every time he had made some snide comment about his family.

Voldemort was now duelling McGonagall, Dumbledore and Kingsley at the same time, pure hatred boiling in his pale face as they ducked and parried; skilfully avoiding his curses yet unable to hit him at the same time. Bellatrix was still fighting; duelling three people at once like her master. Her expression was one of utter lunacy as she cried curse after curse at anything that moved. Ginny, Hermione, and Neville were making a good effort of it but Bellatrix was more than equal to them. Harry's attention was diverted by a killing curse that flew so close to Ginny that it missed her by about an inch.

"NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!" Mrs Weasley's cry echoed across the hall as she ran, throwing her cloak off, towards Bellatrix. Bellatrix screeched with glee as she spun to face her new opponent.

"OUT OF MY WAY!" she pushed Hermione, Neville and Ginny out of the way and, with a swipe of her wand, began to duel. They watched with terror and elation as Molly Weasley's wand slashed and twirled and Bellatrix's smile turned to a snarl. Jets of light flew from both wands and the floor became hot and cracked; both women were fighting to kill.

"What will happen to your children when I kill you?" Bellatrix taunted, as mad as her master, darting wildly as Molly's curses flew at her. "When Mummy's gone the same way as Fabian and Gideon?"

"You-will-never-hurt-our-family-again!" screamed Mrs Weasley. Bellatrix laughed an exhilarated, demented laugh, and Harry and Kathryn knew what was going to happen.

Molly's curse soared, flaming red and deadly, beneath Bellatrix's outstretched arm and hit her squarely on the chest, directly over her heart. Bellatrix's manic smile froze and her eyes seemed to bulge. For the tiniest moment, she knew what had happened, and then she fell. The surrounding crowd roared and Voldemort screamed.

McGonagall, Kingsley and Dumbledore were all blasted backwards as Voldemort's fury at the fall of his last, best, lieutenant exploded like a bomb. He raised his wand and directed it at Molly Weasley.

"PROTEGO!" Harry and Kathryn roared simultaneously, throwing themselves between Mrs Weasley and Voldemort, finally throwing off their invisibility cloaks.

The yells of shock, the cheers and the screams of 'Harry!' 'Kathryn' and 'THEY'RE ALIVE!' were stifled at once. The crowd was afraid and silence abruptly fell as they watched the three people that now began to circle each other.

"We don't want anyone to help!" Harry yelled, not taking his focus off Voldemort.

"It has to be like this!" Kathryn went on. "It has to be us!"

"They don't mean that," Voldemort hissed. "That isn't how it works, is it? Who are you going to use as a shield this time?"

"Nobody!" Harry replied defiantly. "There are no more Horcruxes. It's just you and us."

"Neither can live while the other survives and one is about to become dearly, wonderfully, departed." Kathryn finished.

"One?" Voldemort jeered. "You have only survived by accident and because it was Dumbledore pulling the strings."

"Accident?" Harry cried. "Accident when our mother died to save us?" they were still moving in a circle, paying no attention. "Accident, when I decided to fight in that graveyard?"

"Was it accident that we didn't defend ourselves tonight," Kathryn asked, "and that we still survived, and that we returned to fight?"

"Accidents!" screamed Voldemort, but he still did not attack. "Accident and chance and the fact that you crouched and snivelled behind the skirts of greater men and women, and permitted me to kill them for you!"

"You won't be killing anyone else tonight," Harry said as they circled, "you won't be able to kill anyone again." Voldemort simply looked confused.

"Don't you get it?" Kathryn asked. "We were ready to die to protect these people from you!"

"But you did not!"

"We meant to!" Kathryn shot back viciously.

"And that's what did it." Harry finished. "We've done what our mother did. They're protected from you. You can torture them but none of the spells you cast are permanent. You can't touch them."

"You don't learn form your mistakes, Riddle," Kathryn used his given name for the first time, relishing the fury it brought to his eyes, "do you?"

"You dare!"

"Yes I dare!" Kathryn yelled back "We dare! We know things you don't, Tom Riddle. We know lots of important things you don't."

"Is it love?" he asked mockingly. "Dumbledore's favourite solution, love, which he claims conquers death. Love did not stop me stamping out your Mudblood mother like the vermin she was."

"Love for my Mudblood mother was what lost you your most faithful servant!" Kathryn yelled back; her voice was filled with burning rage, yet also calm and measured.

"What madness is this?" said Voldemort, his red eyes not wavering from theirs.

"Severus Snape was never yours." Harry said calmly. "Snape was Dumbledore's; Dumbledore's from the moment you started hunting our mother."

"You never realised it, did you?" Kathryn went on, working carefully to keep her mind shielded against his fiery glare. "His Patronus was a doe, the same as our mother's. He loved her nearly all his life and you took her from him, you took her even though he asked you to spare her life."

"He desired her, that was all," Voldemort sneered, "he soon agreed that there were worthier women of purer blood that he could have."

"Of course he said that, but you have never had his allegiance since."

"It matters not!" shrieked Voldemort, who had followed every word with rapt attention. "It matters not whether Snape was Dumbledore's or not. I crushed him like I crushed your mother, just like I shall crush you!"

"No you didn't." Kathryn shook her head. "If I am not mistaken, Severus Snape still lives. You didn't think that the daughter of Lily Potter would have the compassion to save the man that, although he was cruel to her, had loved her mother. I saw that he deserved the chance to see the destruction of the pathetic excuse for a man who destroyed the only person he has every truly loved."

"A lie!" Voldemort screamed. "I saw him die!"

"You didn't wait long enough!" Kathryn roared back.

"It is of little matter, I have the power to defeat you!" he twirled the wand in his hands, the wand he had stolen form Dumbledore's tomb.

"No you don't, you are not master of the wand."

"I killed Severus Snape, who last defeated Dumbledore, the wand is mine to control. I hold the wand."

"It isn't holding it that matters." Harry shook his head, knowing that the moment was seconds away. "The wand recognised a new master long ago, one that was not Severus Snape."

"Draco Malfoy removed the wand from Dumbledore against his will," Harry said, "before Snape got to him. Draco Malfoy was the master of the wand."

"I shall attend to him later then," Voldemort shrugged, "it is of little importance."

"But you're too late." Kathryn said with a gleeful smile. "We overpowered Draco earlier. We took his wand from him."

"It all comes down to this," Harry went on, "does the wand in your hand know its last master was disarmed?"

"Because if it does," Kathryn finished, "we are the true masters of the Elder Wand." Voldemort did not move, his eyes flashed with anger and his voice screamed out its curse. Holding hands, Harry and Kathryn raised their wands and yelled their best hope to the heavens.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

"EXPELLIARMUS!"

The bang when the two spells met was like a cannon blast and golden flames erupted at the dead centre of the circle. They saw the Elder Wand fly high across the star-spangled ceiling of the Great Hall, towards the masters it would not kill, to those who had come to take full possession of it. With the dexterity which made him such a good seeker, Harry caught the wand and there was a deafening bang.

There was a moment of stillness as Voldemort's eyes widened in horror. For a split-second, Voldemort's red eyes met Kathryn's, and she felt him invade her mind.

"Oh, we have been bad…" Voldemort's voice trailed off.

A shockwave, more powerful than a swing from one of the giants' clubs spread out through the circle they had created in the middle of the hall, as Voldemort's spell backfired upon him. He hit the floor with a mundane finality whilst Harry and Kathryn were blasted backwards. Harry hit the wall with a crunch before falling to the floor, out cold. Kathryn flew with a crash through the only remaining window and out into the grounds, going a lot further than Harry because there was no wall to stop her flight. She only came to a halt when she smashed into a piece of rubble that one of the giants had knocked off the ramparts.

The silence in the hall was deafening as everyone tried to take in what had happened. No one noticed, in the following commotion, that Lucius Malfoy slunk out of the hall from where he had been stood at the very back. As soon as it was safe, he sprinted out into the grounds, in search of the girl who had been flung through the window like a rag doll.

He found her very worryingly motionless on the grass, sprawled over a large block of stone that looked like it had once belonged to the battlements. He could hear shouts and cheers coming from the Great Hall and all he could think of was escape; but he was not leaving without her. Moving as quietly as possible, he gingerly lifted her up into his arms and, thanks to the usual defensive charms being momentarily disabled, disapparated with a crack.

* * *

A/N - Sorry, another cliffhanger I know...I am away for a week from Saturday so I will do my best to give you one more chapter before then!


	41. Chapter 41

The Aftermath...

A/N - Sorry for the lateness of this update, but I hope you'll think it's worth the wait!

* * *

He reappeared on the steps of his manor and, as quickly as he could, disappeared inside; making sure that it was locked up securely. Several house elves appeared instantly and he immediately set them about fetching him the things he needed whilst he carried her upstairs. All that was necessary sat ready and waiting for him in the master suite as soon as he opened the door; a large jug of icy water, various potions and ointments, warm towels, a dish of warm water and some cloths.

With the air of someone handling something very fragile, he laid her on the soft cream sheets before tearing off his own cloak and armour. He was infinitely gentle as he removed her cloak and cast the ruined material aside, although careful to remove her pristine invisibility cloak and set it away carefully. Reaching across to the small table beside him, he uncorked a small crystal phial of a pale blue liquid and let a small amount trickle into her mouth. She gave a sharp gasp and her eyes snapped open, looking wildly round in panic and fear. She tried to sit up, her face contorting in pain as she moved, and fell back down again.

"Careful," he murmured, stroking her cheek gently to soothe her, "lie still." He smoothed her hair away from her face as her panicked breathing slowed.

"Hurts." She managed to say, screwing her face up against the overwhelming pain she could suddenly feel.

"I know," he planted a gentle kiss on her forehead; "just lie still and I'll sort it out. She nodded, her eyes welling with tears, biting down on her lip. Slowly and carefully, he slipped her boots off to reveal a badly bruised and swollen ankle. With infinite care, he slipped the stiff, blood-soaked denim of her jeans off her legs. Here she had several nasty gashes that had torn through the fabric. There wasn't much left of her top; ripped and charred at the edges with several large burn holes in the fabric. He pulled it over her head, making her cry out as it brushed against her burns. He could not fail to be impressed by the armour that he found beneath and was pleased that she had entertained the idea that extra protection might prove useful.

Her ankle looked well and truly broken; the bone just visible, pressing against her skin. He wasn't sure how long she had walked on it, but he was very glad for those sturdy boots she had been wearing as they had probably saved her from more damage. The cuts up her legs were not too drastic, although some were quite deep and had dirt stuck in them. He swept his gaze up past her torso, not yet wanting to contemplate the damage there, and looked at her usually beautiful face. At the moment, it was anything but. Her hair was dirty and matted with blood whilst a large, angry purple bruise covered her right cheekbone. Touching it gently, it felt slightly fractured beneath his fingers. There were a few cuts crisscrossing her face and neck and a small trickle of blood ran from her hairline, probably from when Bellatrix had sent her crashing into that fireplace.

Picking up his wand, he lightly tapped her ankle three times and, holding it gently, felt the bones mend and return to their normal alignment. Choosing another of the bottles, he gently massaged some thick green liquid into the swollen, bruised area.

"That should be fine within an hour." He told her, stroking her hand in a reassuring manner before turning his attention to her leg. She did cry out this time as he splashed a liberal amount of a yellow potion onto a cloth and set it to her wounds.

"Bloody hell!" she cursed through gritted teeth as he ran his wand across the lesions.

"It'll stop it scarring." He told her matter-of-factly as he rubbed some more of the liquid over the repaired skin. Quickly, the skin knitted together and, within five minutes; there was no sight that anything had ever been there. "Now, it gets more complicated." His face was concerned as he surveyed her torso. "Can you lie on your right side?"

"I think so." He helped her manoeuvre until she was facing the bedroom door. The skin of her left shoulder and upper arm was covered in shining red blisters and was oozing blood that ran in small rivulets onto the sheets.

"Put your hand here." He lifted her hand up until it was level with the pillow and surveyed the rest of the damage. Although protecting her, the dragon hide appeared to have, under the intense heat, melted to her skin. Carefully, he undid the laces at the back and checked how far he could actually take it off. He could freely remove about two inches worth of material without causing her serious pain.

"So it's that bad, is it?" She commented dryly, seeing the look on his face and grimacing in pain as his fingers ran over the burn. "Just get it off and be done."

"This is going to hurt."

"Never." She managed drawl sarcastically before gritting her teeth and twisting her hands into the bed sheets.

"On the count of three." He stood and got a firm grip on the material, setting his food on the edge of the bed for leverage. "One," she braced herself for the pain, "two."

He ripped it off on two. Her visceral scream could be heard throughout the entire house as dragon hide and skin came off as one. Her vision clouded and she slipped into blackness.


	42. Chapter 42

The aftermath at Hogwarts...

* * *

The world swam back into clarity before Harry's eyes.

"Harry! Harry!" a pair of gold, half-moon spectacles danced before his eyes. This slowly turned into the smiling face of Albus Dumbledore. Several sets of hands pulled him up from the floor of the Great Hall and he was aware of several things charging straight into him.

"Harry!" Hermione cried; her arm in a makeshift splint. "Oh Harry, we did it!" She pulled him into a tight hug. This was followed by Ginny who, despite being in front of all these people, kissed him. Harry was suddenly aware that everyone was smiling; people were shaking each others hands, hugging and talking excitedly. Harry ran a hand through his hair.

"We really did it?" he asked, not really daring to believe it.

"Of course you did." Dumbledore smiled. "Look around you." Harry did as he was told and saw many Death Eaters they had battled being herded off by Aurors. Most of them looked severely worse for wear. "Some of us may need to spend some time recuperating and there have been some losses, but we have won the day."

"We're in for a hell of a time mate." Ron said jovially, clapping him on the back and making him wince in pain. Hermione was now trying to hug them both at once. Sirius was beaming at the three of them and Mrs Weasley was sobbing onto her husband's shoulder.

"Where's Kathryn?" Harry asked, suddenly noticing that absence of his sister from the celebrating crowd. He could see no trace of the familiar black hair. People suddenly went quiet and looked gravely at Dumbledore.

"We haven't found her." Dumbledore admitted, bowing his head. "She is not amongst the dead we have already found." Harry found the silence unbearable. "But we have not finished our search." He added with a faint note of hope.

"She should be still in the grounds." Harry told him. "She was here." He stood on the spot where she had been. "She should have landed out there." He pointed out the window. "She can't have just disappeared!"

"Harry," Hermione placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, "she was a lot worse injured than we were."

"She wasn't dead!" Harry cried, sinking to his knees; tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Harry," Mrs Weasley knelt beside him, "come on dear. We'll find her." She placed his hand on his shoulders and, filled with grief, Harry allowed himself to be led to the Hospital wing.

Madam Pomfrey pounced on them as soon as they got in. She spent over three hours carefully dealing with their various wounds before they were alone to talk. Harry was still in a state of shock; leaning against the wrought iron bedstead with a vacant expression on his face. She couldn't be dead; there had to be another explanation.

He kept on turning the events over in his mind, searching for a reason. Then, like the blinding flash that had been the end of Voldemort, it dawned on him. Wearing only a t-shirt and pyjama bottoms, he sprang from his bed and sprinted out the door. He heard Ron, Ginny and Hermione shout after him then, deciding that he wasn't going to stop, and another three sets of feet began to follow him. He sped past McGonagall who was just leaving Dumbledore's office and took the stairs three at a time.

"Potter! Weasley! Miss Weasley! Miss Granger!" he heard her say as the others ran past her too. Then, after a few seconds, he heard her follow too. He burst through the door without a care for who might be in there. Inside, he found Dumbledore sat behind his desk along with Sirius, Lupin, Tonks and Moody who was minus his revolving blue eye. Snape was there too, sat in a comfy armchair, pale and with a thick bandage around his neck, but otherwise still alive.

"Harry!" Dumbledore smiled kindly at him. "Whatever's the mater?"

"Were any Death Eaters unaccounted for?" he panted as Ron, Hermione, Ginny and McGonagall came through the door.

"Pardon me?"

"Which people, that we know fine well to be Death Eaters, were missing from those captured or dead? What about Malfoy?"

"Master Malfoy is currently being held by the Ministry pending a life sentence in Azkaban for the use of Unforgivable curses." Dumbledore explained.

"No, not him." Harry shook his head. "What about his dad?"

"Lucius Malfoy has not yet been accounted for." Harry's stomach froze. Hermione let out a small gasp when she realised what Harry was getting at.

"That's where she is." Harry said in a hollow voice. "He's got her." He slumped down into a chair.

"Harry," Sirius asked him, "what exactly are you saying?"

"I believe we'd all like to know." McGonagall said severely from behind him.

"Malfoy's infatuated with her." Harry felt sick saying this out loud. "She's been playing to him for the past two years to try and make sure that he didn't try anything to get rid of you, sir." He nodded at Dumbledore. "Trying to distract him, to use him to our advantage."

"Do you mean to tell me that my god-daughter has been playing into the hands of one of Voldemort's most dangerous Death Eaters and you didn't tell me?" Sirius growled.

"She knew what she was doing."

"She had no idea what she was doing." Snape snapped at Harry, his near-death experience apparently not affecting his manner. "She had no idea of what he is capable of. I tried to warn her off but, being exactly like her father, she didn't listen." Sirius stood at the mention of James and looked ready to hex Snape into oblivion but Lupin stepped between them.

"Sirius," Lupin said calmly, "I'm not sure your God-Daughter will take kindly to you hexing the man she worked quite hard to save."

"He was getting irritated," Hermione said in a small voice, "because she obviously wasn't going to give him what he wanted. It was glaringly obvious at some points. He wanted so much more."

"What do you think, Severus?" Dumbledore asked. "You know him better than we do."

"He is certainly arrogant enough to do it." Snape said coldly. "He isn't used to being denied something he wants and, believe me; he always gets what he wants." His words hung in the air.

"We have to go now." Harry's voice shook.

"I do not think that wise." Harry could not believe what Dumbledore was saying.

"What?" Sirius bellowed. "You are just going to leave her at the mercy of that foul man?"

"No. I merely think it unwise to go charging in when we have not had a chance to recuperate. He may well be expecting a rescue attempt and I refuse to lose anyone now."

"But what if he…" Harry's voice trailed off, not wanting to think of what a resentful Lucius Malfoy could do to his sister if given enough time.

"He is more likely to keep such a, erm, prize, alive. She could be a useful bargaining tool, should he need one." Snape offered.

"Now, get some sleep, Harry, all of you, and I promise we will leave promptly in the morning." Dumbledore told them. They nodded, returning not to the hospital wing, but to Gryffindor Tower. Most of their classmates were still in the hospital wing being tended to by Madam Pomfrey. Those that had been evacuated for their safety were either in their dormitories or huddled around the fire, apparently in a slight state of shock. Most gave him a wave, although Harry guessed that by the look of his face they assumed that this was not the best time to offer their profuse congratulations.

That night, Harry and Ginny lay curled up in Harry's bed whilst Ron and Hermione occupied to one next to them. After all they had gone through that night, that particular rule they were breaking did not seem to matter all that much.


	43. Chapter 43

A/N - Back to Malfoy Manor...

* * *

Her eyelids fluttered open and the room slowly came into focus. There was something cold against her forehead and she wasn't in pain any more.

"How long have I been out?" she asked groggily, rubbing her eyes.

"About an hour." He was kneeling on the floor next to her holding a cold compress to her forehead. "The damage was pretty bad. Seven broken ribs, a broken ankle, a considerable bump on the head and a very nasty burn." She winced slightly as she tried to move. "Easy. You probably shouldn't move for a while." His hand stroked up and down her side which, up until about half an hour ago, had been a messy burn. She could see his sleeves were rolled up and his hands bloodstained. Glancing down, she could see a pile of similarly stained towels on the floor. The sheets beneath her also told the tale of her injuries. Despite the fact that she did not want to move, she pulled herself up into a sitting position and wrapped a sheet around herself.

"You saved my life," she finally said. "Saved our lives. Why?"

"Watching you die once was painful enough."

"You're hurt." She said quietly after several moments silence, noticing the cut marring his cheek and the bruises on his face and wrist.

"I'm fine." He shrugged, pulling his sleeve down to try and conceal the bruise.

"Come here." She beckoned with her finger. He got up and sat down near her, being careful avoid all the areas he had just healed. Taking one of the bottles that were lying on the floor, she poured a liberal amount of green liquid into her palm. Holding his injured arm close to her chest, she gently worked the lotion into his skin, over the harsh purple bruises. She held his arm there for quite some time after the lotion had soaked in, pushing her lips to his fingers as if they were something precious. She rubbed some more of the lotion over the slight bruising to his face before turning her attention to his cheek.

Reaching for her wand, she traced it along the cut, although not before rubbing in a few drops of the stinging yellow liquid. He grimaced and tried to pull away.

"That hurt!" he complained as it healed, leaving no clue that it had ever been there.

"Ahem," she gave a false cough, "might I please request some perspective." She asked, setting her wand back down. He managed to see the funny side and pulled her gently to him, stroking his hands up and down her sides and through her hair.

"What are you doing here?" she asked him wearily as she held onto his shoulders. "You shouldn't be here of all places." As much as she wanted him to stay, she knew that he would have to flee if he wished to remain free. Or, as free as a person could be in his situation.

"I have until morning at least." He shrugged. "It's not like I didn't make preparations. I couldn't just leave you like that though."

"Good Merlin!" she exclaimed, clapping a hand to her mouth, "Did the esteemed Lucius Malfoy just admit to caring for another apart from himself?" she teased him, but he did not seem to see the funny side. "My friends would have helped me; you are just risking your neck." She buried her face in her hands; she could not think of any way this could end well.

"Get some rest." He pulled away from her and stalked angrily out of the room.

After a few minutes of uncertainty over what to do, she gingerly swung her legs over the edge of the bed, testing how well they held her weight, before walking over to the large wardrobe. She pulled on the first nightie and dressing gown that she came to and followed him.

She found him standing before one of the windows in his study, gazing out at the spectacular setting that he was soon to leave for a long time. He did not know what to say to her; he was so glad that she was alive and a part of him was tempted to forget the consequences and stay with her. Another part, however, told him that it would be altogether better if he just disappeared. He knew the difficult situation this would put her in should his plan come into effect. It would also not reflect well on a soon-to-be-celebrated war hero if she was caught clandestinely meeting with a fugitive Death Eater. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he did not notice the girl that stepped into the room. Walking slowly over, she stood before him and gently reached out to touch his arm.

"I didn't mean to upset you," she said in a small voice, "but I just don't want you risking everything for me. You should be running as far and as fast as you can." He marvelled at how fragile, yet how strong she looked; her face pale in the ghostly moonlight, swathed in a large dressing gown of midnight blue. Her eyes; open wide and gazing at him with an innocence she no longer possessed, an innocence he had taken, were underlined with a much deeper wisdom and strength that many older wizards yearned for.

"I know, but I couldn't leave you. Not like that." his voice cracked slightly, his arms reaching out and pulling her close. She allowed him to hold her tight; not complaining about the way it hurt her bruises, savouring the intimacy of the moment that she never thought they would share. "Besides, what do you think you are doing standing up?" he asked her after a few moments with a concerned, but playful, smirk. Carefully, but nonetheless exuberantly, he swept her up into his arms; burying his face in the gentle curve of her neck. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he carried her, running her fingers through the silky strands of his hair and inhaling his unique scent.

Back in the bedroom, the remnants of his efforts had been cleared away and the sheets changed to cream and emerald green with an ornate silk and velvet coverlet. Setting her back on her feet, he motioned for her to wait a moment as he threw the covers back before turning back around to face her.

Despite the burning passion he felt, he took it slowly; wanting to prolong the moment for as long as possible, and also for fear of doing her more harm. He slipped the robe off her shoulders as they kissed; his hands running across the silky soft skin that had, merely an hour ago, been an assortment of vicious burns. His lips trailed over her jaw, her neck, her collarbone; to him every part of her was deliciously perfect. Similarly, she ran her fingers through his hair; urging him on whenever he made to pull away. Lifting her up once again, he laid her down before crawling in next to her; his hands continuing the exploration of the silky material that enticingly covered her body.

He was gentle with her due to her injuries but he was no less impassioned with the young woman before him. He did not bother with removing her negligee, pushing it up around her waist instead. She was also responding with surprising fervour after all she had just been through; her hands deftly undoing the buttons of his shirt.

Once they had spent what was left of their energy, they lay together; his arms wrapped around her waist, his head resting on her chest. Her hands gently stroked through his hair

"I'll have to leave in the morning." He knew he had to despite the desperate urge to stay with her.

"I know." She said softly in the darkness.

"But I'll look after you, I promise." She sighed and gently turned his head so he looked at her. Shifting her position slightly, she slid down next to him and touched her lips to his, their foreheads touching and her arms wrapping round his neck. As they settled down to sleep, exhaustion finally overcoming their weary bodies; she let his arms envelop her, feeling, for the first time since they had discovered the last Horcrux, safe.


	44. Chapter 44

A/N - The discovery...

* * *

Back in the now secure Hogwarts, all had slept fitfully and rose early, barely eating their breakfast, and waiting in the battle-scarred Entrance Hall for Dumbledore to arrive.

Sirius came down first, looking as if he hadn't slept a wink either. Lupin and Tonks followed, both looking grave. Mrs Weasley, Mr Weasley, Bill, Charlie, Fred and George appeared next on the stairs. Mrs Weasley was wringing her hands together and she looked on the verge of tears. A familiar thunk of wood on stone announced Moody's arrival; he looked very odd without his magical eye but, thankfully, he had no other body parts missing. Snape swept down from the hospital wing, where Madam Pomfrey had insisted upon keeping him, a few moments later; looking in his usual foul mood although Harry was sure he could detect a flicker of worry in his pale, sneering face. Finally, Dumbledore and McGonagall descended the bloodstained steps followed, surprisingly, by an anxious looking Fudge.

"I don't know what you're saying Dumbledore." He said rather quickly. "Lucius Malfoy is a respectable man, not a Death Eater. I'm sure this is all a misunderstanding. I mean, she's disappeared before, hasn't she?" he caught sight of Harry and promptly shut up. He did offer Harry his thanks and congratulations, although he was rather more muted than usual. Harry could sense that, as soon as the Prophet got wind of it, which they probably already had; their lives would become a terrible rollercoaster of media speculation and frenzy.

"Can we go now?" Harry asked Dumbledore, starting to feel sick.

"Yes, Harry, we can go now." Dumbledore held out a punctured bicycle tire. "We're going by Portkey."

"Well I'm coming too." Fudge blustered, seizing a part of the tyre. "I'll have some Ministry cars sent."

"As you wish, Cornelius." They all felt the jerk behind their navel and went whizzing forwards, re-emerging moments later in a deserted country lane.

"I thought it prudent not to go directly into the grounds," Dumbledore explained, "who knows what unfriendly things could lie within. This way." He led them down the lane, which curved around a small copse of trees, until a large pair of wrought iron gates loomed before them. Harry stopped dead in his tracks as soon as he saw what was beyond them. He had expected something big, but this, this was more than he could have ever imagined. Getting closer, Harry could see that the bars of the gate had wrought-iron snakes twined around them and running between them. In the centre, there was a large lock that, upon closer inspection, turned out to be formed entirely of intertwined metal snakes.

"Alohamora." Nothing happened when Dumbledore waved his wand. "It appears that Mr Malfoy was expecting unwanted guests." He commented, performing some complex wand movements that, after a minute or so, caused the snakes to disentangle and the gates to swing open. They all stepped tentatively through the gates and began to walk down the drive. As soon at they stepped over the threshold, Dumbledore locked the gates once more and performed an anti-disapparation jinx to ensure that no one could leave.

Malfoy Manor was, in no uncertain terms, huge; with large mullioned windows, ornate carving around the windows and doors, carved stone gargoyles, several chimneys and at least three floors. A fine mist still lay on the ground, curling through the trees and between the borders, giving the place a beautiful, serene feel that belied what lay within. They had already walked quite a distance but the drive extended for at least another mile before them and Harry could see the beginnings of expansive gardens and grounds at the side of and behind the house.

"Bloody hell." He heard Ron whisper. "I knew Malfoy had it good, but this is unbelievable." Walking at a brisk pace they reached the huge front doors that, Harry noticed, had the Malfoy crest carved in the stone directly above them. Dumbledore reached out to try the door handle and found it, unsurprisingly, to be locked tight.

"He was definitely expecting unwanted visitors, wasn't he?" Hermione spat as Dumbledore unlocked the door with ease. "Arrogant fool." She muttered scathingly as they stepped into the cavernous Entrance Hall. It was truly spectacular; with a vast stone floor, covered almost entirely by an ornate carpet. The room was dominated by a grand, carpeted staircase with elaborate, carved banister rails. It started in the middle of the floor and branched off to the left and right at the top; really nothing short of breathtaking.

Many portraits hung on the walls and everything was lit with an elegant, wrought iron chandelier which hung from the ceiling, as well as matching candle brackets on the walls. There were several doors and archways leading off in various directions and they stood for a few moments, unsure of which way to go.

"Check this floor first," Moody growled, looking more murderous than usual, "then the cellars, the second floor and the first floor."

They did as Mad-Eye said, trawling through every room on the ground floor; marvelling at the ornate furniture, spectacularly large rooms and the signs of inordinate wealth that were everywhere. Hermione even let out a small squeal when they entered a spectacular ballroom with a dark wood floor and a giant silver and crystal chandelier that cast tiny beams of light everywhere in the early morning light. It was an eerie experience; the house felt too quiet. They checked for silencing and imperturbable charms everywhere they could, but found none. It was as if the house had just been abandoned but it couldn't have been as, in the kitchen, there were the signs of breakfast being prepared despite there being no elves around.

There was no sign of any life on the ground floor, not even house elves and, with much trepidation; they made their way down into the cellars. They reminded Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny awfully of the dungeons at Hogwarts; with the torches burning in brackets and the icy chill. Most of the rooms down here were locked and a few simple spells were all that was needed to tell them that they were empty. All they found was a vast wine cellar; the walls lined with hundreds of bottles, many looking very old indeed.

Making their way back upstairs, they emerged through a door concealed beneath the large staircase and slowly began to climb. The walls were lined with portraits that were either dozing in their frames or shooting them sneaky glances and whispering with their neighbours. They followed the stairs all the way up to the second floor and found themselves on a wide landing with several doors leading off it. They went into each one with their wands at the ready, only to find empty sitting rooms, bathrooms and what appeared to be Draco's bedroom, judging by the Quidditch robes hanging up.

Harry could feel his stomach churning as they found every room to be empty and devoid of any signs of life. He did not want to think about what Malfoy could have done to his sister. She was unconscious, injured; she had no way of defending herself. What sadistic things could he do to a badly injured nineteen-year-old if given enough time to do so? He had heard the tales of what he had done during the first war; wizards and Muggles alike disappeared without a trace and were never found again. If they were lucky, families sometimes received their loved-ones ring finger in a small box as proof of their demise. The rest never found out where their loved-ones went or what had happened to them.

He should have stopped her once Hermione had told them what she had seen; he should have stopped her. Now it was too late. Now she was either dead, her body never to be found just to torture them further, or so incurably wounded that she would never be the same. Harry knew that she was strong. But did she have the strength to go through something so terrible, if indeed what they imagined had happened, and come out unscathed and as she ever was.

Ron was, as they checked each room, feeling immeasurably guilty. He looked on Kathryn like a second sister; his mother, after all, had practically adopted Harry and Kathryn as her own children. Brothers were supposed to look after their sisters and, in that respect, he now seemed to have failed. They should have gone to Dumbledore or Sirius sooner, not waited until now when it was too late. He made a mental note to, if he got the chance, hex Malfoy badly enough to ensure that he was permanently scarred.

They were now walking down the thinner corridor that, unbeknownst to them, led to the library. Hermione was not the only one who let out a gasp when Moody flung the doors open, but hers was the most audible.

"Impressive." Dumbledore commented.

"Bloody amazing you mean." Sirius corrected dryly. "You can see where his toe-rag of a son found that curse."

The only place Hermione had seen with more books was the library at Hogwarts. The walls were completely lined with shelves, save the gaps for the windows. Where the ceiling had been in all the other rooms there was a wooden ledge and another set of shelves; doubling the number of books in the room. She could only imagine the texts that sat here just begging to be read and it was all she took not to reach out and open one. The tall, floor to ceiling windows were hung with heavy red drapes and the whole room seemed to exude an aura of knowledge. She wasn't sure how things would work; who the house would pass too once its master was imprisoned and she hoped that, due to most of the Malfoy and Black relatives being either dead or in Azkaban, the house may pass into Sirius' ownership.

Comfortable chairs were arranged in small groups, and Hermione could well envisage curling up for the evening with a book. She pushed these thoughts from her mind, however, remembering that the books were no consolation for what had probably happened to her friend and she scolded herself for having thought of books at such a moment. Her heart was full of a burning rage for the man who, ever since the first day they met, had continually sought to belittle her and her friends. She had, of course, heard the frightful tales of what Malfoy was presumed to have done but she presumed that, as a man, he could do far more damage than any instrument of torture.

Once they had finished ogling at the sheer contents of the library and satisfied that she was nowhere on this floor, they headed back towards the stairs. Descending one floor they turned left at the bottom of the stairs and found themselves in a long portrait gallery. It was lined with some of the most magnificent portraits they had ever seen, and that was saying something considering what there was at Hogwarts. As they walked along, they could see how the wall charted the Malfoy family over the past few centuries. Harry's eyes ran over the line of blonde witches and wizards; all of them with the same arrogant, disdainful looks on their faces. In the very centre of the room, above the ornately carved fireplace, was the man himself. Painted in an uncanny likeness, it captured everything about the man; his arrogance, his overconfidence, his self proclaimed superiority and, most importantly, his wealth.

"My, my, the lord and master." Harry commented scathingly as they stood before the picture, giving a mock bow. "You're dead meat." He added in a menacing undertone. Beside that portrait was one of his late wife; Narcissa. She too had the same degree of coldness that she had possessed in real life and, despite being beautiful, she had no warmth that would have elevated her status to that of a great beauty. The final painting in this series was one of their son. Standing haughtily with his Nimbus two thousand and one, he was every inch the Draco Malfoy they knew and despised.

"You all end here." Harry said, referring to the fact that, due to the life sentences in Azkaban that they were both due to receive; they were the end of the Malfoy line.

The sense of dread seemed to augment even more as they found no trace of her in what appeared to be his study, filled with even more books. Harry and Ron could tell that Hermione was dying to look at them but were impressed at the restraint she was showing. Through a set of double doors was another drawing room that was, similarly, devoid of life. Harry had been keeping count of all the rooms they reached and, with a sinking feeling in his chest, he realised where they had not been; they had yet to find the Master bedroom. He leaned against the windowsill and buried his face in his hands. Reading his thoughts exactly, Ginny walked over and laid a hand on his shoulder.

"It's alright Harry." She tried to comfort him. "They might not be here at all."

"Yeah." Harry said, trying to raise his spirits. "Or he might have just left her here." He said this, but he knew that there was little chance of that as he had seen the packed travel bag waiting in the study. He followed the rest of them out of the room and back towards the staircase. There was only a pair of double doors that led off the large landing on the right of the staircase. Tall and carved from dark wood they were terrifically imposing to look at; with the Malfoy crest carved into both doors. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny could only imagine her terror as she was dragged, they all assumed that she would have fought as best she could, towards these doors. Her terror at hearing the click of the lock and knowing that there would be no escape. They all braced themselves for what they might find inside as Dumbledore placed his hand on the silver handle.

It was the noise that woke him; a distant clunk on his polished wooden floors. Light was softly filtering through the gaps in the curtains and, looking at the clock, he could see that it was almost eight in the morning. He then heard the hushed whispers of voices as the strangers invaded his home. He heard the growl of Mad-Eye Moody and the clunk of his leg as they walked through every room in the manor. He heard them talk in whispers as they climbed the stairs in search of their beloved Kathryn who, at the moment, was lying safely in his arms. He savoured his last few moments with her as he heard them return back from the second floor and head off down the portrait gallery. He inhaled the exotic scent of her hair, trying to commit the perfume to memory before it was too late. He heard the voices come closer and, instinctively, he pulled her closer and planted a light kiss on her back.

She stirred slightly as he pulled her closer, her eyelids fluttering open and adjusting her eyes to the light. She sighed slightly, snuggling closer and intertwining her fingers with his. It was then that she heard the voices. She froze, her heart missing a whole series of beats as she recognised the voices as those of her brother and friends. She did not understand why he was not trying to make his escape while he still could.

He had tried to apparate despite knowing that they would not have made such a mistake, but he had thought it worth a try. He pulled her closer still, kissing her neck as he heard the door handle turn. He would accept his fate, whatever that might be and he would always savour every moment he had spent with her.

Dumbledore swung the double doors open and everyone gathered behind him to try and see inside. Stepping just inside the threshold, they took in the room. It was, in no uncertain terms, huge. The room was dominated by a four poster bed with green hangings; even bigger than the normal king-size and probably just under twice the length of any normal bed. Their eyes immediately focused on the person it contained. From their vantage point in the doorway their view was limited and, consequently, they could only see the one figure lying on his side with his back to them. Even Dumbledore and Sirius, who were fairly tall, could not see the slender form his body was concealing.

"Where is she Malfoy?" Sirius barked at him, pointing his wand straight at the sleeping man. Ever so slightly, as Sirius spoke, he curled his body protectively around her; worried that if they hexed him that they would hit her. Kathryn was now in such a state of panic that she couldn't move. She knew all chance of escape was long gone and she now had to face the consequences.

"Don't try and pull that one." She heard Moody growl. "You've got no wife to protect anymore." Kathryn felt slightly annoyed at the tone of mocking she heard in Moody's voice. "UP!" Moody snapped. Knowing that he had about ten wands pointed straight at him, he had no choice but to obey and, planting a final kiss on her neck, he slowly levered himself up into a sitting position.

Harry watched in horror as the man rose up to reveal the body of another lying next to him. Mrs Weasley gave a small shriek as they saw the familiar shock of wavy black hair. The entire party seemed completely stunned, as if they had believed their fears to be unfounded; that they were being irrational in thinking that something like that would ever happen.

Snape was the only one without an aghast expression in his face. He took in the scene with a cool gaze, very much believing that the man was capable of such a thing. Snape had known Lucius Malfoy longer than most and had a privileged insight into the workings of the man. Lucius Malfoy always had the best of everything; he never settled for less, no matter what, or who, they were. His wife had, at the time they married, been the most beautiful, the richest and, most importantly, the one with the purest bloodline of all the women that had vied for his affections. Snape remembered well the times after Lucius had decided that she was his; any man that dared look at her in a way he disliked found himself on the end of a particularly nasty hex. Oh yes, Lucius Malfoy did not share with anyone. It now seemed that, in his pursuit of the best, he had now claimed the best of the Order of the Phoenix. One of the people that, ever since the first defeat of Voldemort, had stood for everything good in the world, was now owned by him. Well, Snape thought, Lucius Malfoy always wanted the best.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Sirius all rushed forward and pulled her bodily from the bed whilst Dumbledore, Moody and Lupin kept their wands trained on him. Sirius lifted her up into his arms whilst Harry grabbed her glasses and wand which were, bizarrely, set neatly on the bedside table. Sirius carried her straight out of the room, followed closely by Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny, heading for the study in the opposite wing of the house.

Setting her down on one of the plush sofas, he knelt before her; running his hands across her face as if assuring himself that she was truly alive. He replaced her glasses on her nose and gazed into her green eyes. In his opinion, some of the fire seemed to have disappeared and he felt the fury rise up inside of him. Little did they know that the look of terror on her face had been caused by them, and not by the man they now had cornered in the bedroom.

"We thought you were dead." He managed to say, hugging her tight.

"I'm not." Her voice was hollow, as if she was not really there.

"What did he do to you?" Sirius asked seriously. She did not know how to answer. He saved her, he loved her, but they would never believe that. He took her non answering as a confirmation of their worst fears and stormed out of the room with only a brief word to Harry. "Look after her." Harry nodded as his godfather went to unleash his fury on Malfoy.

Kathryn curled her legs beneath her and sat in silence with a vacant expression. Whilst Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny thought she was traumatised, she was in reality trying to figure out what on earth she was going to do. It was only now that Harry noticed what she was wearing because it didn't make sense. Harry could not see why she should be wearing a skimpy nightie made of fluid black silk. The thought that he had forced her to wear it sickened him to the stomach. What also confused him was that she was completely devoid of injury. When they had last seen her, she'd had a burn all over her left shoulder and several nasty wounds up her legs. She sat in the same silence for a few more minutes before getting to her feet and beginning to pace around the room. None of them dared say anything; afraid that one word may push her over the edge.

"Is what I'm wearing offending you?" she suddenly asked Harry, shocking them all with how alive her voice sounded. She had spotted Harry staring at her with disgust.

"Well, it's not exactly nice to look at, considering what he did." Harry told her frankly.

"Fine." Picking up her wand, she waved it sharply. "Accio clothes." Something came whizzing through the air and landed in her hands.

"Where can I change?" she asked, pretending not to know the manor like the back of her hand.

"There's a bathroom just opposite." Hermione pointed out. Kathryn gave them a small smile before disappearing.

"Those clothes came from inside this room!" Hermione hissed as soon as she was gone.

"What?" Ron said in shock. "They can't have."

"They did." Ginny clarified. "From somewhere over there." She pointed in the region of one of the large carved cabinets.

"This doesn't make sense." Harry shook his head. It wasn't adding up; she seemed to be perfectly fine apart from being a little edgy and was not the emotional wreck he had expected her to be. She reappeared a few minutes later in a bizarre collection of clothes. She was wearing a pair of dark, low cut jeans with a dark green silk top. It was a long camisole, an appropriate Slytherin green, with lacing along the bottom and on the neckline. She wished that she had something else to wear. She wasn't sure if this was any better than the negligee, as it technically was one, and she was only wearing it in the guise of a top and hoping that Harry wouldn't notice. This particular item had been left that day she had stormed out and she had never bothered to remove it. On top of all this she had a pair of matching dark green heels on her feet, also left on that ill-fated day. They stood in the same awkward silence for another few minutes before she finally gave in.

"Well, I'm not just going to sit round here and wait." She declared, standing up and striding out the door. The four of them followed her as she headed straight back to the now closed double doors.

"You shouldn't!" Hermione cried out as she got ever closer. Harry began to run after her, trying to reach out and stop her before she got to the doors. He was too late.

The occupants of the room were not expecting her sudden, brisk arrival through the doors and they all turned around with their wands drawn as the doors burst open. They had expected some botched Death Eater attempt at rescuing him, not the object of their search. It shocked them all to see how calm and composed she seemed to be after her ordeal. She strode over to the fireplace on the opposite side of the room and leant against the mantelpiece, waiting to see who would be the first to speak. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny followed her and stood near her like a guard.

Malfoy was sitting on the edge of the bed, fully dressed now, and facing Dumbledore, Fudge and the rest of the group. Harry saw his head turn and his eyes flare as Kathryn stood there. The predatory gaze he saw made his skin crawl.

"Don't you even look at her." Harry told him in a dangerous tone. He noticed Sirius, Lupin, Bill, Fred, George, Charlie and Tonks visibly tighten their grips on their wands.

"Why not?" he asked, raising a questioning eyebrow. "As far as I am concerned, your sister is fair game. She is, after all, a very beautiful young woman."

"Not for you," Harry's voice shook with rage, "not after what you've done to her."

"What you assume I've done." He countered.

Harry's stomach seemed to turn to ice. It was as if someone had suddenly turned on the light in his brain; everything that he had thought odd seemed to move and fit into some kind of bizarre jigsaw.

"What the hell do you mean by that?" Sirius spat angrily.

"You blindly assume what I have done." He said in his usual haughty manner, seemingly unaffected by the precarious situation he found himself in. "Have you even sought out confirmation of my actions?" he raised a quizzical eyebrow at Sirius.

"A face tells a thousand stories."

"Faces also tell lies." Malfoy countered.

"Stop speaking in riddles and tell us what the hell you did!" Harry shouted at the blond man. Kathryn could feel the tremor of panic well up inside of her. This was it, the end of all things.

"You mean you haven't realised?" Malfoy said to her brother in a condescending tone. "Ah the sweet ignorance of youth. Put all the pieces together boy." He spoke as if he was addressing a particularly stupid child.

"You're lying." Harry refused to believe what he was implying. His sister would never…

"I doubt a member of the Order of the Phoenix, and a Potter to boot, would stoop so low." Sirius said scathingly. Kathryn tried to keep her face impassive.

"So you never wondered where the dresses and the jewels came from? Where she went?"

"She bought them herself and she was visiting friends." Harry said decidedly. "Besides, most of the jewellery is cheap costume stuff she found in Diagon Alley. Stop trying to taint her."

"Oh, I assure you they're very much real." He said with a self satisfied smirk. "So, with all your superior knowledge, where was she in the last week of August two years ago?" he asked, challenging Harry to provide an answer.

"She was in France," Harry told him in no degree of uncertainty, "visiting one of her friends." Malfoy merely shook his head with a knowing glint in his eye.

"You lie!" Sirius yelled at him, brandishing his wand fiercely. Lupin laid a cautioning hand on his shoulder.

"You really have no idea of what your precious Miss Potter has been up to, have you?" he said with a cruel smile. All at once, Kathryn could see what he was trying to do. She would not have him paint her as the one who began it all.

"Don't you dare!" she snapped at him, speaking for the first time since she entered the room. Her cheeks flared and she stepped closer to him.

"Ah, now the shame sets in." he smirked as her cheeks reddened even further.

"What does he mean, what you've been 'up to'?" Harry asked his sister with a questioning expression. Looking around, she saw that all eyes were now on her and their faces were all a mixture of curiosity, shock and disbelief.

"I believe we'd all like to know." Dumbledore said in a solemn tone, speaking for the first time since she entered. The disappointed edge to his voice distressed her more than any shouting-at could ever do. She stood between the two groups for a few moments; looking between Dumbledore's grave face and his cruel smile. Haunting visions of the dream she had had earlier in the year came back to her and, unable to stand the tension, she turned on her heel and stormed out the doors.

"Kathryn!" Harry called out, starting to run after his sister as she headed for the stairs. He followed her as she stalked down the stairs and through towards the back of the house. He heard the doors that led out of the parlour slam and lock and saw the silhouette of his sister pace up and down.

"Kathryn." He pleaded through the door. "Come back." He saw her stop her pacing through the keyhole, as if considering what he had said.

"Go away Harry." Her voice offered no debate and he saw her aim a fierce kick at the wooden furniture that sat on the terrace, followed by a sharp gasp as pain coursed through her toe.

"Come on, please." Harry implored her. "You can't let him rule you like this. He's just a worthless, arrogant bastard who should be locked away. What he did to you is no fault of yours."

"Leave me alone." Her voice held none of the fire it had done before. "Just go." Harry sighed and trudged back upstairs. He did not hear the thing she whispered to herself. "I let him rule me because he does." She collapsed into the chair she had just kicked and buried her face in her hands, allowing despair to overwhelm her.

"She won't come back." Harry said flatly upon his return. Everyone in the room, apart from Malfoy, had a deeply worried expression on their faces.

"Then she will come by force." Sirius growled, making to leave. "I am not leaving until I have had some explanation."

"Sirius Black you will do no such thing!" Professor McGonagall said in a stern voice. "She's your god-daughter, how could you consider treating her so callously?"

"I'd listen to her," Malfoy warned him, "otherwise you may never get her back."

"Shut up!" Sirius snapped at the blond wizard. "Sorry Minerva." he mumbled.

"I'll get her." Malfoy offered nonchalantly.

"As if we'd let you anywhere near her." Moody snorted.

"Try it; I assure you that she will listen to no one else." After a few moments of reluctant silence, Dumbledore nodded.

"If you insist." He sighed; most unwilling to let this man anywhere near his student.

"She's on," Harry began to say.

"The back terrace." Malfoy finished for him. "I heard." He nodded towards the open windows that led out to the balcony, standing up and straightening himself out.

"Don't you even think of trying to escape." Moody snarled.

"Wouldn't dream of it." He replied dryly as he disappeared out the door. He walked quickly through the house, trying not to dwell on the fact that he may not be returning for a long time. He knocked softly on the door leading to the veranda, waiting to see how she reacted.

"I told you to go away Harry!" she said in an angry voice. "Or whoever you are just leave me alone."

"It isn't very polite to address the Master of this house in such a tone." He chided playfully, unlocking the door and stepping out into the morning sunlight. He was disappointed that she did not drop her angry, anguished expression for him.

"Don't you dare do what I think you are going to!" she told him before he could even speak, her voice shaking with anger. "Don't you dare try and paint me as the one responsible for all of this."

"I'm only teasing," he shrugged, "your brother is so dreadfully easy to wind up."

"Wouldn't you be in the same situation?"

"True. But I assume you don't want them to know the half of it at this point, do you?"

"No." she sighed, now wanting to get into explaining something so complicated the day after they had defeated Voldemort.

"It is not like you are blameless." He closed the doors, speaking in a calm, measured tone.

"I did not come here two years ago looking for what I found. I did not ask for you to ruin my life." She said in a hushed voice, not wanting anyone to hear her.

"True. But you could have been a little more, er, resistant." He smirked. "And I wouldn't say that it was ruined."

"I had no option, if you'll remember. The choice was either complying with you or risking mine, and my friends, lives even more than I was already doing." Her voice was high and agitated. "And, if I remember rightly, I did resist!"

"Well, true, I didn't give you much of a choice." He gave another smirk. "But I have a feeling that it would have ended up like this regardless."

"You are very arrogant to presume that."

"If you hadn't made the move I would have." She was stunned by this revelation; she would have never thought him to have felt that way so early on. "But you have to face them sooner or later, and I would personally advise sooner." He reached out and took her hand. "You never know, they may understand." She nodded and gave his hand a small squeeze before following him back into the house.

"What about the house?" she asked as they slowly walked.

"Arrangements have been made. The Ministry will not get its hands on the estate."

"And the Malfoy fortune?"

"The same. The Ministry would have to go through years of red-tape to even get close to a single Knut."

"But they'll search the house."

"Everything of an unacceptable nature is hidden in places they cannot find." He assured her as they reached the top of the stairs.

Stepping through the doors with one of his hands resting lightly on her shoulder, they were greeted by astonished looks; none of them had believed that she would actually return with him. Sirius immediately lunged forward and pulled her away, disgusted that Malfoy even dared touch her.

"See." Malfoy said, raising his eyebrows.

"Tell us what happened." Sirius pleaded. "We won't be angry, we promise." She looked between her friends and the man she had grown to love before giving Sirius a small nod. He stepped back, giving her the space she needed, and waited patiently for her to begin. She took a deep breath.

"Two years ago, when I said I was going to France, I was here." Mrs Weasley could not help but give a small gasp.

"Why?" Sirius asked in disbelief. "Why on earth? I mean, what possessed you to do something so dangerous?"

"I wanted to help. I felt useless just bumming around the house all summer." She wrapped her arms around her waist, appearing to withdraw into herself slightly.

"You should have said something," Sirius told her with a sigh. "You didn't have to sneak off and do it in secret."

"It doesn't really matter now." She wrapped her arms even tighter around her waist. "I paid the price for being caught." Several faces paled, including Charlie's usual ruddy complexion. None of them failed to grasp what she meant by that. Sirius felt sick to his stomach; he had thought something was wrong when she had come back but he had just accepted her denial that there was anything wrong.

"I think that is enough for now." Dumbledore could see her anxiety and was fearful of her reaction if asked to discuss such things at the present time. "We can discuss this later under less embarrassing and painful conditions." He noticed that Fudge had gone very pale indeed; obviously realising that his trust was very much misplaced.

Indeed Fudge was shocked; he had trusted Malfoy implicitly, refused to hear a word against the man who leant his support to so many good causes. He had watched Malfoy for the past two years and had not suspected a thing when he had escorted the pretty, black-haired girl to various events. He had always assumed that he was being friendly by introducing her into a circle of people with whom she did not usually mix. He had believed his lies about inviting her to Quidditch matches as an apology for his son's indiscretions. He would have never suspected that it had such a malicious undercurrent.

"Come on then Malfoy." Moody ordered gruffly, motioning the wizard to move with his wand.

"I'll come by all means, but might I have a word with Miss Potter first?"

"No." Moody growled, brandishing his wand.

"Of course he can." Kathryn said quickly, grabbing his hand and leading him out onto the balcony. With a wave of her wand, she let the heavy drapes around the windows fall, not wanting others to be privy to their private affairs. As soon as was safe, she wrapped her arms around his neck and, like she had on the battlefield, held on as if she would never let go.

"So much for escape." He murmured into her hair as he returned her embrace.

"Yes, but you're going to be safely tucked behind bars. I am going to have to live with this." Her voice was hollow and empty.

"I will look after you, I promise." He touched his lips to hers and, for just a moment, only they existed. They did not notice the photographer.

The news of Dumbledore, Fudge and Harry's arrival at the Malfoy residence had spread quickly and there was already a gaggle of reporters waiting on the drive. He had crept around the back to see if there was anything going on and was rewarded with the scandal of the century. He clicked the shutter at the very moment their lips met and then scurried away. The Prophet would never know such good sales.

"Ready?" he asked her as they broke apart, not that she had a choice. She nodded. "Remember, stand tall. What you did was great; do not let them forget that just because of one transgression. Do not let them forget."

With that they walked back into the room to meet their fate. He picked up the fresh cloak that was lying on the back of a chair as they passed and, surrounded on all sides by members of the Order, he was escorted out of the room. Harry tried to pull her back, not wanting her to walk beside him but she pulled her arm away from his grasp every time. Halfway down the stairs Malfoy draped the cloak over her shoulders, making what she was wearing less obvious. It was this gesture that sickened Harry the most; the cloak, with its silver, serpent shaped clasps and fur trim, held so much symbolism. It was if he was marking her as his own. For Kathryn it meant everything, she had something of his for comfort.

They separated as they reached the doors; Moody, Bill, Charlie and Fudge escorting Malfoy away to one of the waiting Ministry cars which sped off as soon as they were inside. The rest of the group headed past the gaggle of reporters, not answering their questions, to the remaining cars. Kathryn held her head high as she walked down the stairs, showing no sign of weakness or shame.

* * *

A/N - The music that inspired me when Lucius can hear them walking through the house is the original version of 'Come What May' from Moulin Rouge...just as it reaches the crescendo...it's filled with emotion and love, but also a strain of desperation...perfectly encapsulating the moment I feel. Also, the music inspiring their search was 'Aurora's Return/Malefecant's Evil Spell' from Sleeping Beauty.


	45. Chapter 45

A/N - Sorry for the long hiatus...it has been murder trying to get on the internet for long enough to check my e-mails, let alone give you an update!!

After the discovery things most certainly _do not_ get better...enjoy. Please read and review!

* * *

She did not speak for the entirety of the journey back; instead gazing out of the window at the countryside that was speeding past. This created an uncomfortable silence in the car; none of them wanting to be the one to speak or question her first. They could sense just by the way she sat that they were unlikely to get any information easily; she was trying to be as small as possible, turned away from them with a distant expression on her face. She did not seem to notice their arrival in Grimmauld Place until the rest of them had actually gotten out of the car and Sirius tapped on the window to rouse her from her reverie. She walked slowly up the front steps, lagging behind the rest of the group and closing the door softly behind her.

"Tea dear?" Mrs Weasley asked her, touching her elbow; trying desperately to bring her back to them. She shook her head and, before anyone could say anything else, she was taking the stairs two at a time towards her room. They heard the door slam shut, and then silence.

Draping his cloak on a chair she climbed onto her bed and curled up, tears streaming silently down her cheeks. It wasn't his arrest that saddened her, it was the fact that she knew that she was soon to lose everything and, once the whole truth came out, she would have to fight tooth and nail to ever be as respected as she used to. She did not pay heed to the time as she lay there staring into space. She ignored the sounds from downstairs; of people celebrating and congratulating each other. That was, until someone knocked on her door. She was about to tell them to go away when Albus Dumbledore stepped over the threshold.

"Come now Miss Potter," he said in a kindly voice, "this is no time to be hiding away. It is a time for celebration, not melancholy." He laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Remaining so steadfastly silent will only worsen your situation. And remember, no matter how much Tom Riddle might have despised and mocked it, there is no better cause to fight for than love."

"They will hate me." She said quietly. "I deserve no praise." Tears streaked silently down her cheeks.

"On the contrary, I would disagree. You, along with your brother, are a hero. Let no one tell you otherwise. I am not going to force you to explain now; you may do so when you feel ready." She sat up and hugged her knees to her chest. "Besides, I must ask you to return to Hogwarts with Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Severus, Minerva and myself. I believe that there are many who greatly desire to see you alive." She nodded and stood, wrapping the black cloak once more about her shoulders and followed Dumbledore back downstairs. She did not smile as she reached the bottom where the rest of them were waiting but did murmur a few words of goodbye to Sirius before taking the Portkey.

They landed back in the Entrance Hall of Hogwarts with a crash, nearly collapsing into a heap as students rushed away at the commotion. Upon seeing who it was, however, they all rushed forwards to try and get near Harry, Ron, Hermione and Kathryn; all of them shouting congratulations. Quickly extricating themselves, the four of them headed straight for Gryffindor tower where they found a raucous party still going on. Empty bottles of butterbeer were strewn everywhere and Fred and George's fireworks were whirling round the room. Kathryn also noted that there were some empty bottles of a substance much stronger; Firewhisky. She had thought Hermione at least would have tried to assert some control over the situation but, apparently in no mood to be strict, she collapsed into her favourite chair and began to kiss Ron. Harry followed suit with Ginny and she was able to grab one of the many copies of the Prophet that were lying around before slipping upstairs.

Pulling on his white shirt and some pyjama bottoms, she sat cross-legged beneath her covers and began to read. The front page was, of course, dedicated to their defeat of Voldemort and was full of exultant praise for all involved; but none more that Harry and herself. There was, by the side, a small piece that announced the fact that she was nowhere to be found and, so far, had not been found amongst the dead. It was almost like an obituary and she found it rather surreal to read. She had barely gotten through the first few pages before a great wave of tiredness enveloped her. She pulled the curtains around the bed and buried herself beneath the sheets, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. She did not hear the rest of the ninth year girls come up to bed, nor did she hear them get up in the morning and go down to breakfast.

She woke at ten, feeling substantially refreshed and, after dressing, headed down to breakfast. There were few people about; most of them probably having a late breakfast after the various parties that had been going on. The still substantially damaged Great Hall was, however, full to bursting with students who were all smiling and chatting with their friends. As soon as she began to walk down towards Harry, Ron and Hermione, however, the whispering began. She was aware that people were giving her skittish glances and that copies of the Daily Prophet seemed to be being passed around the tables at a phenomenal rate. Harry, Ron, Hermione and the rest of the Gryffindors did not smile at her as she approached; indeed, most of them seemed to be scowling.

"So, are you going to explain now?" Harry asked her in a caustic tone, throwing a copy of the Prophet into her hands. "He wasn't lying, was he?" she looked down at the paper in her hands. The big, black banner headline read 'HERO WITH A DIRTY SECRET' and beneath, what she saw made her let out a small gasp. Beneath the headline was a picture of her and Lucius on the balcony the day before. She watched the photo for a few minutes as their photographic selves kissed over and over again; touching her fingers to her lips, she remembered how it had felt. It seemed like it had happened so long ago, like a far distant memory, even though it had only been the previous day. The room seemed to spin and all the muttering seemed to spiral into a loud buzzing in her ears. She heard several taunts shouted above the muttering.

"Traitor!" it came from the Ravenclaw table.

"Whore!" that one was definitely from Slytherin. She dropped the paper and ran; a look of sheer panic on her face, their heckling following her until she heard Dumbledore's voice above the crowd.

"Silence!" he boomed over the shouting, but she did not get to hear what else he said because she was already well on her way back to the common room. With a wave of her wand, her things were packed and she was dragging her trunk back down the stairs into the Entrance Hall. People saw her dragging her trunk and, with a great scraping of chairs, many rushed out to see what she was doing. Another round of insults came her way but stopped as the room shook. She was so angry and upset that she could feel herself losing control of her magic. Her scar was burning and there were tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Wait!" Harry cried out, pushing through the crowd towards her as the room shook again. Kathryn shook her head and, with a final look around at the place she loved so much, Harry watched her go through the movements necessary to Disapparate.

"You can't!" Hermione cried. You could not apparate or disapparate within the grounds of Hogwarts; she had told them hundreds of times. They watched as, defying all they had ever been told, she disappeared with a crack.

"Bloody hell." Ron said, staring at the now empty space. "She did it."

"She can't have," Professor McGonagall stammered, "no one has ever managed to break the enchantments surrounding the castle." She looked slightly faint.

"I believe that Miss Potter may be the first. You felt the way the room shook Minerva," Dumbledore said. "She lost control of her magic. With unrestrained power like that many things are possible."


	46. Chapter 46

A/N - Explanations come in their own time, and on her terms. Enjoy! As always, read and review!

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Kathryn emerged from the crushing darkness in a heap on her bedroom floor back in Grimmauld Place. Immediately she locked her door and barricaded it shut with her trunk, using the old Muggle trick of wedging a chair beneath the doorknob. She collapsed on her sofa in tears, crying desperately into a cushion. She had been a fool to believe that the world would not find out.

She spent the next week shut up in her room; refusing to speak to anyone or come down for meals. Every scrap of post she received she burned, apart from the howlers that she just had to listen to. The malicious notes arrived from every corner of England and several caused the fire to burn in odd colours due to the various hexes and nasty substances that had been enclosed This was punctuated by ferocious shouting matches with Harry and Sirius; she on one side of the door and they on the other. These inevitably ended in her collapsing into tears once they had given up. Harry and Sirius were not taking this well at all and, although that in her hiding away she was giving them the time to form the worst opinion of what went on, she could not face them. She ate the food that was left outside her door by Mrs Weasley and spent many hours in bed, not bothering to get up, and thinking about all the options available to her. There weren't many.

After just over a week she decided that there was little point to shutting herself away from society and she felt, almost, ready to explain. Her arrival in the kitchen for breakfast caused quite a stir; Hermione gasped and Harry got up to leave the table.

"Well, if you don't want to hear my explanation I'll go back to bed." She turned in the doorway but was stopped by a hand on her elbow; it was Sirius.

"Stay." He implored her, leading her back to the table and piling bacon, beans and toast onto her plate.

"I know you all probably hate me." She said in a quiet voice; moving to the seat farthest away from everyone and toying with her bacon.

"We don't hate you dear." Mrs Weasley said kindly from the cooker.

"Some of us are just a little angry." Harry's voice was harsh and cold.

"You deserve an explanation; it's just taken me a while to work up the confidence to tell you what happened." She replied in a similarly harsh tone to her brother. The rest of her breakfast was consumed in silence.

An hour later, she was sat in the drawing room, her legs curled beneath her in the soft armchair.

"I lied to you when I said I was going to France." She began; Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Sirius, Lupin and Mrs Weasley all listening intently. "I felt useless sitting round here all summer just listening about what was going on so I decided to do a bit of snooping around at Malfoy's."

"What did you think you could find?" Sirius asked her in a tone of desperation.

"I don't know." She whispered. "I don't know what I went looking for; it just seemed like a good idea at the time."

"How did you get in?" Lupin asked her curiously. "I doubt that there were no enchantments protecting it."

"I hoped that he was arrogant to think that people would never try and get in without using magic. I just climbed over the fence. There was a light on upstairs so I climbed up the wall to see what it was. It was all going fine until my foothold gave way."

"You fell?" Sirius asked her, hating the idea of her being injured and at the mercy of Lucius Malfoy.

"No, just lost my footing. He saw me for a split second through the window and then disappeared." Hermione gasped. "I ran, only I should have gone the other way because I ran straight into him." They were proving to be a good audience, keeping quiet and letting her talk.

"What happened then?" Hermione asked softly.

"I spent the next few hours chained up in the cellars thinking that I was going to die." Harry and Sirius blanched. "He took my coat and shirt because I'd stitched maps into the sides. He took my wand too so there was no chance of escape." Mrs Weasley had now gone that same white of Harry and Sirius. They were all beginning to appreciate how scared she must have been. "He talked about giving me to the other Death Eaters," Mrs Weasley did actually scream at this thought and it took her several moments to calm down, "but then he decided that he didn't want to share." She shuddered at the thought of what happened next, not wanting to re live it again. "He didn't want to share something that had so willingly wandered into his grasp."

"I think we can imagine what happened next," Lupin said calmly, "you need not say if it is too painful."

"But it wasn't just once," her voice shook slightly, "it was an entire week." She buried her face in her hands and silently sobbed. Sirius now understood why she had seemed distant when she had been sitting in the kitchen that morning two years ago.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Harry demanded, not understanding how she could have been so stupid.

"Do you even understand how afraid I was? Or what that even feels like, when someone takes that from you?" she asked, her temper rising slightly. "He threatened to hurt me even more than he had done. And my friends if I even dared breathe a word to anyone. When you're terrified already you aren't one to refuse."

"It's alright dear." Mrs Weasley enveloped her in a hug. "No one here blames you."

"But it didn't end there. He kept on pressing me for information; cornering me every time he came up to school or when we went to Hogsmeade. He would admonish me for being noble and sacrificing myself for my friends. Then he'd have his fun." She shuddered again at the thought.

"But that could have only been a few times, I mean, that was only Slytherin matches and a few Hogsmeade visits." Ron counted them off on his fingers.

"Can you add Ron?" Ginny scolded her brother. "That's up to three visits to Hogsmeade and four Quidditch matches."

"He organised the work experience at the Ministry." She confessed, hanging her head. "And he took me to Dubai, not the Department for Magical Games and Sports." She wrung her hands together. "He found me in Paris, I didn't spend a week at Queerditch Marsh, I wasn't in the shower or the library after Quidditch matches." She said this all very fast, although omitting the fact that she was going willingly to him by that time.

"So you mean that every time you went away, you were with him." Harry said quietly. She nodded, hugging her arms around her chest.

"I wasn't in France when I found out my foster parents died and I didn't go to the Quidditch World Cup Final as a guest of the Minister either." Tears had begun to prick at the corner of her eyes.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Sirius asked; his head in his hands.

"Because I wasn't going to risk putting you in danger." She told them in a hollow voice.

"We were already in danger." Lupin sighed.

"Well, when you've just been…" she trailed off, "well, had a Death Eater do that to you, you're not likely to think very rationally are you?" she finished in a shaky voice. They were amazed at how calm and collected she was being. Harry noticed that she continually toyed with the ring, set with a large red stone, which she wore almost continuously. He did not understand why she was so obsessed with a piece of cheap, costume jewellery that she bought in Diagon Alley months ago.

"True." Sirius agreed, taking her hand. "None of us blame you," he reassured her, "it's just something we wish we didn't have to deal with. It has also put you in a rather difficult situation. You have been reading the Prophet, haven't you?" she nodded. "Then you'll have seen what Fudge has been saying about you."

"I did notice some of his more cutting comments, yes."

"He is calling for you to stand trial for conspiracy and passing information." Sirius told her. "He sent Dumbledore a letter yesterday."

"I didn't tell him anything. I couldn't. That's why he kept coming for me."

"We know, but," she didn't let Sirius finish.

"Give me Veritaserum if you like!" she raised her voice in anger. "He said that he would let me go if I told him and that the longer I kept my silence, the longer I would suffer at his hands. Only I knew that if I had told him something he would have exploited me even more."

"The thing is; you're going to have to stand up and explain everything." Lupin explained gently. "Can you do that?"

"I don't know." She shook her head. She had not even told them the full truth and, under oath in front of the Wizengamot, truth was not something she could omit.


	47. Chapter 47

A/N - A public foray does not go very well, but a birthday brings an unexpected gleam in the darkness, and the promise of something beyond the current events.

* * *

It was another full week before she even dared go out in public. Harry, Ron and Hermione were surprised to find her at the bottom of the stairs one morning, dressed to go out. She looked, in Harry's opinion, much more rigid than normal. The trousers she was wearing were made out of fine grey tweed; clinging perfectly to her figure where intended and hanging elegantly elsewhere. On top she wore a finely knitted grey woollen jumper which was notably missing its shoulders but had sleeves that went just over half way down her arm. In addition she was wearing a pair of high, black court shoes and had a black clutch bag tucked under her arm.

"Where are you going?" Harry immediately asked. Harry wasn't so keen on her going out by herself. "I'll come too."

"I'm only going to Diagon Alley. I can't hide away forever. And no, you're not coming. I am not going to allow stupid letters turn me into a hermit." With a blink of an eye, she disapparated.

"Go after her. Just to make sure she's alright." Harry asked Hermione. She nodded and disappeared with a similar crack.

Appearing outside the Leaky Cauldron, Kathryn took a deep breath to steady herself before stepping through the shabby door. Conversation ground to a halt in the pub as people caught sight of the tall, elegant figure moving between them. People purposefully turned their backs to her and began to mutter amongst themselves; even Tom the barman offered no warm smile. She had expected this but still, the venomous stares and whispered mutterings did nothing to settle her nerves as she stepped out into the back yard. She tapped the bricks and they folded away into the arch that led to the bustling street of Diagon Alley. She stood at the top, frozen for a moment or two, before walking confidently through the crowd with her head held high. Hermione, having apparated straight to Diagon Alley, stood in the shadows watching her friend's progress. She also noted the murderous glares that some people sent her way. Hidden beneath a cloak, she followed at a safe distance as Kathryn walked further and further in.

Kathryn had also noticed the looks people were giving her. She tried to ignore them as she walked but found that, once the malicious whispers reached her ears, it was hard to control the panic building inside her. It was then that the taunts began.

"Whore!" a shrill voice cried in the crowd. She wondered why people did not come up with more original insults.

"Traitor!" another voice shouted, this time a man. She found herself walking towards a wall of people who did not budge.

"Excuse me." She asked politely as she tried to pass. "Excuse me." She tried again in a polite, but forceful tone.

"Why the rush?" one asked with a cruel smile on his face.

"There's no more Death Eaters for you to sleep with darling." A shout came from the crowd. "Traitorous whore!" jeers rose up in the crowd which began to close in on her. She was completely unprepared when the first hex was shouted out. Knocked back off her feet, her cheek scraped painfully across the cobbled pavement and she struggled to get to her feet; her ankle twisting as her shoe slipped. Another curse slammed into her before she could even stand and she saw stars as her head cracked off a nearby wall. Hermione, standing as close as she dared, disapparated straight back to Grimmauld Place.

"They're attacking her. Hurry!" she shouted at the two boys waiting for her return. "If we're not careful they'll lynch her!" Hermione was not joking; she had seen the looks on their faces. They apparated at the back of the jeering crowd and had to fight their way through to get to her. They were horrified by what they saw; her hair had come free of its pins and was tangled and matted with blood. There were bruises and cuts all over her and her right ankle looked badly twisted, a fine trickle of blood was running down her forehead from beneath her hairline. Harry could see her fighting the urge to cry as she tried in vain to reach her wand, being knocked five feet into the air before she could make it; a horrifying crack splitting the air as she hit the ground. With another round of jeering, she was blasted off her feet for what felt like the hundredth time and landed with yet another sickening crunch on the cobbles. Harry watched as her arms visibly shook as she tried to support herself. She wouldn't reach her wand in time; another man was already advancing on her.

"PROTEGO!" Harry broke his cover and jumped out in front of his sister. The man's shouted curse glanced off the street and all stared in amazement at Harry. Hermione and Ron rushed out and, with some difficulty, helped Kathryn to her feet.

"How dare you!" Harry yelled at the crowd. "How dare you treat her like this!"

"She deserves it, sleeping around with Death Eaters!" came a cry from the crowd.

"You have no idea of what happened!" Harry countered.

"Tell us then." Another screamed.

"That is not my decision." Harry could not remember being so furious. "And if you ever try this again, you will answer to myself and the rest of the Order. After Voldemort a mob like you should be child's play."

"Let's get her to Fred and George's." Ron said as the helped a dazed and limping Kathryn up the street through the dissipating crowd; none of whom dared say anything. People who had not seen what happened stared at them as they staggered up the street to the shop with a loud green frontage. They practically fell through the door in their haste to get through, causing every customer in the shop to stare wildly at the four arrivals.

"Ron, Harry, Hermione!" George shouted from across the room.

"What are you doing," Fred began to ask, but then caught sight of Kathryn, "oh."

"Through here." George pulled back the curtain that led through to the back of the shop. Every single customer watched them avidly as Hermione and Ron supported Kathryn between them. Most of the people in the shop were Hogwarts students and their parents and they gawked annoyingly at the bruised and bloodied girl that had once been their schoolmate. There were some clucks of disapproval from parents as they passed; holding their children back as if she might pass on a nasty virus.

"I'm fine." She managed to say as they set her down in a comfy armchair.

"Good joke." Harry replied sarcastically as Hermione set about healing he cuts that marred her face and arms.

"It's more this I'm worried about." She gave her ankle a painful shake. "That's twice in just over a fortnight that I've injured that one. Not a good idea." She winced as Harry tapped it with his wand and the ankle began to mend.

"When did you hurt your ankle?" Ron asked, rubbing some of Fred and George's ointment into her bruises.

"When do you think?"

"But you were fine when we found you." Harry said, watching the swelling in her ankle subside.

"I was pretty worse for wear."

"You mean he helped you?" Harry asked in disbelief, unwilling to believe that such a man could be kind.

"Well, I certainly didn't do it on my own." They all went silent until George came in.

"We saw something happening through the windows." He told them. "So that was you, eh?" he raised an eyebrow a Kathryn. "Well, only an attention seeking Potter would do something like that." He mimicked Fudge with a laugh. Fred and George had, as well as the rest of the Order, been informed of what Kathryn had told them. Most sympathised with her. Of course, she hadn't told them that it was quite possible that she loved him.

"Do you want to use the fire to get back." Fred offered as they stepped back into the main part of the shop.

"That would be great." Harry nodded, stepping towards the fireplace.

"No." Kathryn's voice was quiet but firm.

"You probably shouldn't go out there again." Hermione tried to dissuade her.

"I will not let them win. They will not frighten me away." She could not forget what he had told her; stand tall. "The show must go on." She said pensively, straightening out her hair and jumper. With a determined gaze she opened the door and strode out into the street, despite the bruises that had blossomed across one of her cheeks. They all ran to the door and watched as she cut a swathe through the shoppers; it was an amazing transformation. She walked with an imposing stride and, if anyone dared venture comment, she fixed them with an icy, forbidding look that silenced any further criticism. Harry, whilst impressed by this resolve, could not help but feel slightly disturbed at how much she resembled Malfoy.

Despite her attestation that she was not going to be frightened away, she did not venture outside after that; remaining within the confines of Grimmauld Place for the next fortnight. She and Harry celebrated their twentieth birthday with a muted dinner in the basement kitchen. They had all wanted to go out to celebrate but, with the inescapable media following their every move and Kathryn's refusal to leave the house, they had decided staying in the better option. Whilst being happy that she had survived to her twentieth birthday, she could not help but feel unhappy.

It had been over a month since his incarceration and there had been no word. The Prophet was, unusually, silent on the subject; although it continued its disparaging editorials on her. She was actually grateful that no one knew where she lived; the location still remaining a closely guarded secret. This at least meant that she did not have to put up with angry people congregating outside on the front steps. Working her way through the best part of a bottle of red wine that night did help to numb the pain slightly and she disappeared back up to bed before the others. It was then that she had what was possibly the best surprise of the day.

Sitting squarely in the middle of her pillow was a rectangular parcel, wrapped in deep red paper with a matching ribbon. Unwrapping it lovingly, she found a black rectangular box encased within. It was certainly old and the hinges creaked slightly as she opened it to reveal a classic, beautifully made diamond necklace. The light from her lamp glanced off the smooth surfaces of the square and rectangular cut diamonds, sending beams of light scattering across the walls. Counting them, she found there to be twenty stones and she smiled at the small, yet sincere, thought. There was a note that, she presumed, had been written prior to his incarceration as she doubted that he would be allowed to send a package from Azkaban.

_Happy Birthday. _

_If this has been delivered by owl then I am, for whatever reason, unable to give it to you in person. It is a family heirloom, passed on from mother to daughter on her twentieth birthday. However, as I have no daughter, it seems fitting that it should pass to you. With love._

She read and re-read the note several times before adding it to the small bundle she had amassed over the years. A smile playing across her features, she wrapped herself in the soft cotton of his shirt and fell asleep for the first time in a month with happy thoughts in her mind.

* * *

A/N - The inspiration for her walk back through Diagon Alley after being patched up in Fred and George's was 'The Show Must Go On' from Moulin Rouge. It's exactly what she must do as forthcoming events will shape her destiny and, even though it breaks her heart, she knews what she has to do.


	48. Chapter 48

A/N - Plans come to fruition...

* * *

The next morning at breakfast, wearing the necklace hidden beneath a scarf, a large envelope landed on her empty plate. The brown owl that delivered it hooted loudly to announce its presence before flying up the chimney. It was addressed in a hand that she had never come across before and, still wary of suspicious letters, she was about to cast it in the fire when she caught sight of a familiar crest showing through the envelope.

"What's that?" Ron asked bluntly through a mouthful of sausage. "Not more hate mail?"

"Dunno. I don't think it's that though." She ran her knife beneath the flap and pulled out a single sheaf of parchment.

"Well?" Harry prompted her as she read.

"I have to go to meet some lawyer person at Malfoy Manor; or more specifically, the gates to Malfoy Manor tomorrow at ten o'clock."

"Why?" Hermione asked curiously, buttering her toast.

"Doesn't say. It says that everything will be explained on arrival."

"I don't think you should go." Hermione; always the voice of caution. Something stirred in her mind; 'arrangements have been made'. Could these be the arrangements he had mentioned?

"I'm going."

"No, it could be a trick or something." Harry agreed with Hermione.

"Come with me then."

The next day the four of them were walking down the lane that led to the gates of Malfoy Manor, all of them wondering what was in store. A thin, balding man in plum robes was waiting at the gates and positively jumped when he saw them approaching.

"Miss Potter, Mr Potter, Mr Weasley, Miss Granger!" he gushed, bowing low. "Such an honour it is to meet you all, I had no idea you would be coming also."

"Thanks." Ron said nervously. "Who are you?"

"I do beg your pardon; I completely forgot I had not introduced myself. I am Matthias Whittet of Roxburgh and Whittet solicitors, the executors of Mr Malfoy's will."

"Will!" Kathryn exclaimed. "He's not dead?" it was hard not to conceal the note of panic in her voice.

"No, no. I should rephrase." He hadn't expected such a reaction. "I am under instructions to carry out his wishes in relation to the Malfoy estate as he, and his son, are likely to be somewhat," he paused, searching for the right word, "unavoidably detained for the foreseeable future."

"I see. And those wishes are?" Kathryn questioned him further.

"Let me see." He rifled through his papers. "That the guardianship of the Malfoy Estate, its contents and the family fortune pass to a one Miss Kathryn Potter." He read. "That is you, I believe." Kathryn nodded. "I need you to sign here in acceptance."

"Wait a second." Harry interrupted as he passed a quill to Kathryn. "He's giving the Malfoy estate to Kathryn?"

"It appears so."

"Why?"

"I have no details as to why, I am merely here to ensure that his request if fulfilled." He apologised to Harry.

"And what if she doesn't accept?" Hermione asked.

"The enchantments protecting the Manor will deteriorate when not in the hands of an owner or guardian; allowing Muggles to see more than they should. As I understand it, Muggles can see a lavish estate but thanks to the magic governing its protection, they also strictly obey the signs they see telling them that it is private land. Any decline in such protection could prove dangerous to wandering Muggles."

"Give it here." She took the parchment and signed her name. "There." She handed it back, ignoring the astonished looks Harry, Ron and Hermione were giving her.

"Thank you." He tucked the parchment away. "Now, another requirement of this is I show you around the property as there are certain essential items of information that the guardian must be aware of." Kathryn nodded and, with Harry, Hermione and Ron in tow, she followed Whittet down the drive.

Harry, Ron and Hermione, for the second time in just over a fortnight, were once again approaching the imposing façade of the Malfoy ancestral home. They hadn't really taken in the outside when they had come to get Kathryn back. It was, in no uncertain circumstances, amazing. Intricate, but understated, carving surrounded the windows and the entire place just reeked of money. The front doors were tall and made of thick oak with an old bell-pull at the side and a great iron knocker on each door. Hermione, Ron and Harry looked slightly daunted by the grand entrance, not having noticed it on their first visit. For Kathryn, however, it made her feel slightly warmer inside.

"Let's start at the top." He led them up to the second floor, taking them through each of the rooms in turn. Harry found it bizarre to have each of the rooms described to him when, only two weeks ago, they had prowled through here with their wands drawn.

"I can see the advantages of this." Hermione commented as he took them into the library. She perused the stacks for a while, running her hands over the spines of the leather-bound tomes. "Even Hogwarts doesn't have these." She pointed out a set of ancient volumes on alchemy. "There are only three sets of these in existence and he has one." Hermione was bubbling with the excitement of having these to read.

"There are two reading rooms." The lawyer pointed them out. "And a hidden chamber concealed in the larger." At the sound of a hidden chamber, Harry, Ron and Hermione immediately went in search of it. Kathryn watched in mild amusement as they lifted the rug and pulled bookcases aside. Their faces were a picture when Kathryn walked to the wall and released the panel; sliding it to the side to reveal the doorway.

"How did you know that?" Ron asked, in the midst of checking if any of the books were a disguised lever.

"I was hidden in there once." She allowed the panel to slide back into place and left the room to rejoin the lawyer who was waiting patiently. Leading them downstairs, he showed them through the study which, after further inspection by Hermione, was deemed to hold some of the rarest books in existence.

"Yes, but I might not allow you to read them." Kathryn teased Hermione, who looked affronted by the suggestion. "Only kidding!" she laughed as they moved on down the portrait gallery.

Harry, Ron and Hermione could not help but find it unsettling as they walked down the long gallery. The many eyes of the portraits followed their progress, some turning their backs haughtily as they passed. Kathryn, on the other hand, found it rather interesting. She had never seen the portraits in the house before. They had always been covered when she had visited; he had not wanted one of the portraits to let something slip to his son, a visitor or, when she had still been alive, his wife.

"This is the Master suite." The lawyer informed them as they stepped into a room all too familiar to her. "There is a large en-suite, wardrobe and balcony attached." She wasn't really listening as he recited things she knew already. Someone, the house elves she supposed, had changed the bed linen since she had last been here; the bedspread and hangings now fresh and crisp.

"You don't half get a good view from out here." Hermione said from the balcony that overlooked the gardens. "It's a pity the people who lived here were so vile." Kathryn ignored their comments and sat down on the edge of the bed that she had so often shared; looking at her reflection in one of the facing windows. It was a while before she noticed the sun glinting off something beneath the bed. Kneeling on the Persian rug, she looked beneath to find herself looking into the emerald eyes of his serpent-topped cane. Harry, Ron and Hermione watched in amazement as, with a misty-eyed look, she brushed the dust off with her sleeve and set the silver tip on the floor.

"Ah, yes, well," the lawyer looked slightly puzzled, "on to the ground floor." Harry had to admit that, cane in hand; she looked very much as if she belonged in the manor. He shook these disturbing thoughts from his mind; she would never belong here, and followed them downstairs. The downstairs rooms were unchanged and they passed through them fairly quickly before making their way into the cellars.

"There are several secret passages down here." The lawyer informed them as they walked through the draughty passages. "I am, of course, unable to say where but this document here will provide you with all the details." He handed Kathryn a thick envelope which was sealed tight against attempts to discover the secrets within. "It is charmed to only allow the owner, or guardian, of the Manor to see their location." He led them through to the wine cellar and stores before doubling back and showing them a number of inconsequential rooms that held nothing of importance. At least, they all held nothing of importance apart from one.

"I'm not really sure what this is for." He commented as they looked in the door. "It does seem an odd place to have one." Looking at his sister, Harry could plainly see that Kathryn knew exactly what this room was. Her face had gone pale and she was staring at the four poster bed with wide, haunted eyes. Harry had a good guess as to what it had been used for and, judging by Ron and Hermione's looks, they did too.

Kathryn had gone numb with shock. The bedspread hadn't changed since she left and, out of the corner of her eye, she was sure she could see her silver earrings glinting on the mantel above the fire.

"I'll be off then." The lawyer was bundling his papers back together. "I will leave you to explore further." He bowed low to them all. "It has been a pleasure to make your acquaintances." He walked down the corridor, turned a corner, and they were alone. Shakily, Kathryn walked over to the mantel and took the small pieces of silver in her hand. Horrible memories flared in her mind and she pocketed the earrings quickly, closing the door behind her.

"So that was where…" Harry said, not wanting to finish his sentence. Kathryn gave a shaky nod.

"So what about those secret passages then?" Ron asked, trying to move the topic onto safer ground. Nodding, Kathryn broke the seal on the envelope and withdrew a single sheet of parchment.

"Well," she scanned the list, "apparently there's something right next to this room." She walked along and looked at the solid expanse of wall that faced them. "Accessible by password and a key." She read from the sheet.

"A key?" Hermione said questioningly. "How are you supposed to know what the key is?"

"It says that it's in the form of a ring." She looked at the small diagram beside the instructions.

"Well that's helpful." Hermione said in an annoyed fashion. "How many rings do you think the vile man has?" Kathryn ran her fingers over the ring that adorned her finger. Looking up the wall, she noticed a fault in the stone that, upon closer inspection, was a perfectly cut groove. Whilst Hermione bickered with Ron about the best way to get in, Kathryn pushed the sleeve of her shirt back and slid her hand up the wall. Ron and Hermione stopped and they saw the ring on her right hand slide into the purpose-cut groove with a click.

"Faust." She said.

"Inventive password." Hermione muttered darkly, but fell silent as Kathryn's hand was turned a quarter turn to the left before returning to its original position. It was released with another click and, listening carefully, they heard what sounded like a very complex lock being released. They stepped back as the wall slowly slid away and torches illuminated, casting the hidden chamber in a very eerie green light. It was Kathryn who understood first what its purpose was. Hermione gave a small shriek as her eyes caught sight of the shimmering objects that hung on the walls, some of them coated with what appeared to be blood.

Kathryn took in the thick-topped wooden table, the furnace in one corner, gleaming knives, brands and other devilish implements with a cool gaze and then vomited. Harry quickly grabbed her about the shoulders and pulled her away to lean against the wall. Hermione made quick work of the mess whilst Harry tried to reassure Kathryn who had slid down the wall into a sitting position.

Seeing the sadistically equipped torture chamber only served to remind her of how close she came to death that night. How easily he could have kept her in there instead of next door. Her eyes ran over the razor sharp blades and all she could see were images of what could have been had he been so inclined. What made her feel even more ill was, despite the fact that it had not been intended that way; he had given her the key to his twisted playground. Her hands shook as she waved her wand and the doorway sealed itself once more.

"So that's where all those poor Muggles went." Harry said, helping his sister to her feet.

"That's where I could have gone." She said in a hollow voice.

"Let's leave the other passages for a different day." Hermione steered them back down the passage and up the stairs into the entrance hall.

"So I guess that isn't a ring you bought in a cheap shop in Diagon Alley then." Harry said in an injured tone.

"No." She replied frankly.

"So when did you get that?"

"Last year. He slipped it into my pocket." Harry could not help but notice that, again, she became all misty eyed and ran her fingers almost lovingly over the serpent head of the cane.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing." She realised her mistake when she heard the defensive note in her voice.

"Please don't tell me you're-." Harry never got to finish what he had to say as a loud knock echoed through the hall. Instinctively, the four of them raised their wands and approached the door with caution. Opening it a crack, she caught sight of a pinstriped cloak and lime green bowler hat. Flinging both doors open wide, she stood commandingly in the opening, as if daring them to come any further.

"I don't remember inviting you Fudge." She said in a cool tone to the Minister who was flanked by several Aurors; Scrimgeour and Dawlish the most prominent amongst them.

"Yes. But I do not recall this being your house." He countered, pushing his way past her.

"Check your facts Fudge." She addressed him in the way Lucius had always done; cool and superior. "The last time I checked, I was the guardian of this estate and I did not invite you."

"Oh we won't be here long. It just so happens that you have conveniently placed yourself. Saves us a lot of bother actually."

"What are you on about?" She said with a note of boredom. "I do have other things to do you know."

"I am here to place you under house arrest pending trial." He recited in a practiced manner.

"What for?" she asked in an angry voice, resisting the temptation to raise her wand.

"Consorting with Death Eaters."

"And you didn't? I sat here and had dinner with you and Malfoy. You don't call that consorting?" she interrupted him.

"Deceit," Fudge went on, "passing information to the enemy. Treason, for want of a better word."

"He always had your ear!" she couldn't believe Fudge. "You were always willing to listen when he slipped a sack of Galleons in your pocket."

"I," he puffed his chest out haughtily, "was deceived. My decision is final. You may be a hero but you are not above the law." He turned on his heel. "Mr Potter, Miss Granger, Mr Weasley; I must also ask you to leave."

"Why?" Harry's voice was calm but filled with quiet rage.

"I am taking measures to ensure that your dear sister cannot escape."

"You wait until Dumbledore hears about this." Hermione spat.

"Dumbledore has no sway in the matter, now come." The three of them shot Kathryn apologetic looks as they followed Fudge towards the doors. They were outnumbered three to one and they did not want to start another fight with the Ministry.

"How long do you intend to keep me here?" Her voice shook slightly but the firm tone remained.

"As long as needs be." Fudge was now standing on the front steps. "You've chosen a magnificent prison." Kathryn stood in the centre of the entrance hall, her insides turning to ice as she watched them walk away. Then she realised that, instead of just feeling it, her entire body was becoming cold. With a thrill of terror she saw the familiar, eerie black shape descending towards the manor. Someone was screaming; a desperate, guttural scream that was enough to make a grown man shudder. She looked around to see who was screaming and then realised; it was her scream that she could hear. A scream that had passed her lips two years ago.

"What do you think you're doing?" Harry screamed at Fudge as he saw the four Dementors descend upon the house. "Don't you know what they do to her?" he conjured his Patronus to protect them as the Aurors shepherded them towards the gates.

"I told you I was taking steps to ensure that she stays put." Fudge sniffed, ignoring the girl that was sill standing in the hall.

"They'll kill her!"

"Nonsense. They are only there to stop her leaving."

Kathryn stood there and watched them go. Her friends were abandoning her; her brother was just walking away. Sinking further and further into despair, she could not muster the strength she needed to find that one happy memory needed to repel the advancing Dementors. All she could hear was her screaming and all she could feel was the pain as they forced her to re-live some of the worst moments of her life. She clutched the cane close to her chest, trying to cling onto the memories of the one thing that made her happy beyond measure.

Harry looked back as he heard the doors creaking shut. He saw his sister slowly sink to her knees; doubled over in agony as desperate sobs wracked her body. That was the last the three of them saw of her before the doors banged shut with an ominous thud.


	49. Chapter 49

A/N - Sorry it's been so long since my last update, I have been horrendously busy of late and my writing has suffered as a consequence...never fear though, I am back to university soon and shall have plenty of time to procrastinate!! As always, please read, review and, above all, enjoy!!

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Lucius Malfoy was not cooperating. It had been two weeks since his capture and, in that space of time; they had not been able to glean one piece of information from him. There had been no confession, no attempt to bargain with them and no mention of what he had done to the Potter girl. For once, the man remained silent.

"Where were you on the night of the twenty third of August two years ago?" the Auror asked for what felt like the hundredth time.

"Must we go through this again?" Malfoy drawled in a bored voice. "It is becoming rather tiresome."

"It will continue, Mr Malfoy, until you tell us what happened." The Auror would not let this man break him.

"And I have repeatedly told you that I will not offer you any information whatsoever until I am satisfied that she is safe." Despite having been locked up for two weeks in Azkaban, the man still held onto his arrogant and aloof manner.

"I assure you Mr Malfoy, she is perfectly safe." The Auror shook his head despairingly.

"I'm inclined to think otherwise. From what I have gleaned, it appears that the Minister and society in general are treating her most ill." He had managed to come by newspapers during his stay on this desolate rock and what he had read hadn't been good. Where they used to praise she and her brother for their bravery, they now sullied her name and called her a whore.

"Do you want to see her?" the Auror asked with an exaggerated sigh, finally giving in. He noted at the way the man's features picked up at the mention of such an opportunity. The Auror withdrew a square stone basin from beneath his chair. It looked vaguely like a pensieve, with runes carved around the sides and a swirling, iridescent mist within. With a wave of his wand, the mist withdrew to reveal an image of Kathryn's face. She was smiling and, having not yet lost track of time as one was so prone to do whilst interred in Azkaban, he knew that it was her birthday. He watched as she sat cross-legged on her bed and found the parcel that he had instructed to have sent. He smiled as he watched her reaction; she was happy and, unbeknownst to her, this anniversary of her birth would set into motion another chain of events that would place her in a very influential position indeed.

This pattern continued over the next few days. He would get to see her for a few minutes and know that she was alright. Then he would give them small pieces of information that were, for the most part, trivial; but they seemed to please the Aurors so he continued. This little window into her world, however, gave him a glimpse of events that the Ministry would have preferred to keep quiet. He watched helplessly as she was placed under house arrest in his own Manor and the Dementors descended upon her. He sat stoically and watched as they ripped every trace of happiness from her mind. Doubled over on the floor of the entrance hall, she tried in vain to transform into her Animagus wolf form; knowing that the Dementors had no effect on animals. She flitted between human and wolf appearance; unable to sustain herself long enough to remain transformed.

He betrayed no emotion as he watched her slowly deteriorate and his information steadily became useless facts that they already knew. The final straw came when, after the mist had parted, he saw his bedroom. Not a single thing moved and there was a sombre air about the place. There was a figure lying in the large bed; exactly in the centre, it did not move. As the enchantment allowed him to see closer, he felt a thrill of horror as the indistinguishable shape in the bed turned into that of the one person whose image he clung to in the dark hours of the night. She was lying motionless; her hair fanned out on the pillow as if she were some character in a fairy tale. Only the problem was that her face was ashen and her breathing was barely discernible. All the colour had drained from her cheeks and she looked, disturbingly, as if she was lying in state. All too suddenly the image vanished. He had noticed that the Aurors were showing him less and less, in exchange for more information.

"So, Mr Malfoy," the Auror questioning him began as the image vanished, "is there anything more you would like to tell us?" this was his chance.

"I would like to tell you," he drew himself up, making sure that every ounce of his disdain for this man and the Ministry was evident in his voice, "that you, and your Minister, are incompetent fools and I will refuse to cooperate until I am allowed to go to her." His tone offered no compromise and the Auror found this very unsettling.

"I'm afraid that is not possible," he tried to soften the blow but Malfoy would not be swayed.

"Can't you see what you are doing?" he spat angrily. "You are killing her for the sake of your reputation. I do not think the Minister would like to have the death of a war hero on his hands, would he?" his voice was laced with malice and the Auror before him was glad that the man did not have his wand. Had he enjoyed such an advantage, the Auror was sure that Malfoy would have hexed him into oblivion.

"I think that is enough for today." The Auror stood and gave his wand a wave. Malfoy felt the Dementors swooping down once more.

"You will kill her!" he yelled, not knowing what else to do. "You will kill the one thing I have left to live for! And then what? You will answer to her brother and Godfather!" he kept on shouting as he was dragged away to his cell. He did not know what impact his words had had.

As soon as he was gone, the Auror hurriedly travelled back to London where he had an urgent meeting with the Minister; showing him what Malfoy had seen. In turn, Fudge went to Dumbledore who spent several minutes gazing at the images of his former student.

"What do you think, Dumbledore?" Fudge asked earnestly. "Is it for real? Is she dead?" he clutched desperately at his bowler hat.

"She is not dead, Cornelius," Dumbledore told the Minister in a solemn voice, "but I fear that she soon will be." He was very afraid for the life of this girl that, for her entire life, he had protected as if she were his own daughter.

"The Dementors are under orders not to." Fudge stammered. The death of one of the Potters by his hand would be the end of his career.

"Their effect is enough. It appears, to me at least, that she has lost the will to live." His tone was grave and Fudge did not fail to grasp the severity of the situation. "I would go as far to say that she is dying of a broken heart." Fudge did not know what to do. He could not cave to the man's every demand, yet he could not leave her to die. "Let him go to her." Dumbledore said, as if reading his mind.

"What?"

"If she is so important to him, let him go. But also give her the benefit of the doubt. She has endured far too much to be able to cope with more slander and public attack." These words were not a request; they were an order. With a nod and a slight bow, Fudge stepped into the fireplace and disappeared in a whirl of green flame.


	50. Chapter 50

A/N - Another update, a nice long one too, to hopefully make up for the lack of updates over the past two months!! And my word, Fudge actually seems to have a brain there somewhere!! Read, review and enjoy!!

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It did not take long for Fudge to come to a decision over the issue. He did not inform Harry, Sirius or the rest of the Order about the problem until they received an owl explaining that a Ministry car would be picking them up the next day. Malfoy was woken early in the morning by one of the Aurors stationed at the island prison and told to dress and be ready in half an hour. His ordinary clothes, which had been removed when he had first arrived, we returned to him wrapped in a brown paper parcel. This was followed by a cracked old mirror, soap, some tepid water and a razor.

He complied, not knowing why, but made sure to be perfectly turned out by the time the Auror returned for him. From then on, he was taken by boat to the mainland and then transported by various Portkeys' in a route deemed untraceable. He had grown tired of the relentless jumping around by the time they had reached the secluded location where the Ministry cars were waiting. It seemed odd to be seated in such familiar luxury after having spent over a month in the squalor of Azkaban. He did not ask where he was being taken, nor did he offer any comment to the Aurors sitting opposite him.

Similarly, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Sirius were also seated in a Ministry car. They had been trying their best for the last fortnight to get Fudge to withdraw his decision to imprison her but to no avail. When the owl arrived, Harry was on the brink of refusing to go wherever the Minister wanted him to, at least until he saw the brief mention of his sister's name. At the mere idea that there was a problem, he agreed to travel to Malfoy Manor the following day. He had spent most of the night worrying about his sister and pacing before the drawing room fire. Sirius was similarly agitated and annoyed that he had been prevented from apparating directly to the Manor where she was being held.

The journey was agonising, and all of them kept on looking for signs that would tell them that they were anywhere near the Malfoy estate. Their single car soon turned into a fleet when, at random junctions on the Muggle motorway, two other cars joined them. The first one appeared to contain the portly figure of Cornelius Fudge. The second, which remained between the two other cars, held the unmistakeable figure of Lucius Malfoy. Harry began to fume as soon as he caught sight of the familiar blond head, but ceased when Hermione shot him a reproachful look. They did not speak again until they pulled into the driveway of Malfoy Manor.

Fudge got out first and greeted them before turning to the two Aurors guarding Malfoy.

"I think we can manage from here." Fudge informed them. They nodded and retreated back to the car in which they had travelled.

"Are you going to explain why we are here Fudge?" Sirius bellowed as soon as he got near Fudge. "What has happened to my God-daughter?"

"He has made a very large mistake." Malfoy offered with an arrogant gaze.

"And what are you doing here?" Sirius yelled even more angrily at Malfoy.

"What happens on my property is my business."

"It isn't your property anymore," Harry reminded him, "you gave it to her."

"Miss Potter is the Guardian of the Estate; technically it is still my property." Malfoy raised his eyebrows, as if daring Harry to challenge him.

"I don't particularly care who owns this place," Sirius groaned, "just tell me what has happened to Kathryn."

"Erm, well," Fudge looked nervous and kept fiddling with the rim of his bowler hat, "it appears that she has reacted rather adversely to the Dementors." Fudge shuffled his feet and waited for their reaction.

"What do you mean 'reacted adversely'?" Harry asked, his voice shaking with rage.

"Well, I'm not really sure." Fudge stammered. "Perhaps we'd best go inside."

"You'd better call the bloody Dementors off first." Ron muttered scathingly, conjuring his Patronus again. Ron and Hermione's Patronuses had been circling them as they stood on the drive, protecting them from the effects of the Dementors that circled the Manor.

"Ah, yes." Fudge waved his wand and, silently, the Dementors drifted back to the perimeter of the grounds. "After you, Lucius." He stepped to the side and allowed the elder Malfoy to lead the way.

Despite having spent a month in Azkaban, Harry was amazed that he did not seem at all worse for wear. He was, as always, impeccably dressed in his black suit and cloak, clean shaven and his hair flawless. He strode towards the great front doors as if he had never been away. Stopping before them, he gazed up at the Malfoy crest that was carved above them; contemplating what he could find within.

"Don't just stand there." Sirius growled.

"They're locked," Malfoy replied caustically, "I haven't got my wand to unlock them."

"Oh here." Hermione sighed, waving her wand. There were several clicks as the various locks released and then silence. With an almighty push, he flung both doors wide open and strode into the entrance hall. His shoes rapped sharply against the polished wooden floors as he walked. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Sirius had to admit that, in his 'natural habitat' as it were, they had never realised how imposing the man actually was. With two short claps of his hands, a house elf had appeared at his side and bowed low, its knees trembling.

"Where is she?" he demanded harshly, tossing his cloak at the trembling elf.

"The young Mistress is in Master's bedchamber." The house elf squeaked in a terrified voice. "She has not woken or eaten for several days now sir." He gave another petrified bow.

"Out of my sight." Malfoy spat, kicking the small elf bodily across the entrance hall. This treatment earned him a scandalised gasp from Hermione but he silenced her with a look; his cold eyes daring her to say anything. Despite the fact that she still had her wand and he did not, Hermione did not dare say anything.

He strode on into one of the downstairs drawing rooms, heading for a desk set against a wall.

"I need a wand." He told them abruptly, standing with his arms folded.

"Yeah, like we're going to give you that!" Ron scoffed.

"I have something that may help." He tried to explain.

"Well it just so happens that we don't trust you with a wand right now." Hermione told him disparagingly. At that moment, a piercing, blood-curdling shriek echoed through the house. Harry could feel the Dementors converging again and Sirius immediately conjured his Patronus.

"I told you to call them off!" Malfoy bellowed at Fudge, anger blazing in his cold eyes. With a terrified mumble, Fudge waved his wand and they felt the Dementors retreat again. This was, however, not before another scream cracked through the air. "I know what memory she is re-living, now give me a wand." His voice was calm and level despite how angry he was. He knew all too well what memories she had just been forced to re-live. He was ashamed to admit that it had been he who had elicited those screams of pain. He had delighted in being able to cause her so much agony. Now, however, the thought of harming her made his stomach churn.

Reluctantly, Harry handed Malfoy his wand. Fudge stared at him in horror whilst Hermione, Sirius and Ron merely watched with cool, cautious gazes. He swiftly tapped a patch on the wall and, with a murmured incantation, a tiny area of the wall slid away to reveal a small secret chamber. Reaching within, he pulled out a carved wooden box. Lifting the lid, he ran his fingers over a neatly arranged set of crystal phials before selecting the smallest. He tucked this safely in his pocket and then stowed the box back in its hiding place.

"Thank you." He returned Harry's wand with a nod of thanks; the gesture nearly bowling Harry over in shock. Lucius Malfoy had just thanked him! The next thing they knew he would be complimenting Hermione or asking after Ron's parents. It was a fleeting moment, however, and his cold sneer fast returned. Clapping his hands in the same fashion as before, another house elf appeared and bowed low.

"Yes Master?" it squeaked, not looking directly into Malfoy's eyes.

"I want tea, chocolate and brandy to be ready as soon as I reach my chambers." He ordered the elf as he headed for the door. The elf followed, nearly tripping on the dirty pillowcase he wore.

"Certainly Master."

"How long has she been in this state?" he demanded of the elf.

"Six days sir." Malfoy's face creased in anger and, although he did not shout, the elf found himself hurtling at an astonishing speed towards the wall. This earned him another shocked gasp from Hermione but one infuriated glare silenced her.

"Six days," he muttered to himself, taking the stairs two at a time in his haste, "six bloody days. Sure she's alive but what will the damage be?" he paused for a moment before the doors that led to the Master suite. If one dementor was enough to make a guilty man lose the will to live, then what would six do to an innocent twenty year old girl? His nerves were on fire with the prospect of seeing her again but there was also the thrill of dread at the thought that they might be too late. He pushed the door open slowly, his eyes instantly falling upon the figure lying in the centre of the bed.

He wasn't sure if the words deathly pale were appropriate. She was ashen; her lips and cheeks colourless, her breathing hollow. He only paused for a moment. The sheets around her were dishevelled, and if she had the energy to thrash around like that then there still may be some hope. He dashed forward, pulling the potion from his pocket and tossing his jacket aside. Kicking his shoes across the room, he practically jumped onto the mattress next to her; cradling her to his chest. He could hear her breathing but she would not wake up. Despite being beneath the bedcovers, she was freezing cold and he ran his palms down her arms in a vain effort to warm her. Her brother, Godfather and friends were just standing at the door; mystified at the sight of him caring for another human being.

With a 'crack' a house elf appeared with a tray laden with a pot of hot tea, Honeyduke's best chocolate and his finest brandy. Lying her back down on the pillow, he reached for the chocolate and touched a small piece to her lips. It did nothing, not that he had expected it to; she was far beyond the simple help of chocolate. By the door, Hermione had her face in her hands whilst Harry stared in horror, rooted to the spot. Pulling the small phial from his pocket, he undid the stopper and, with a steady hand, parted her lips and allowed two drops to fall in. He gave her throat a few gentle strokes to ensure that she swallowed and then sat back on his haunches to wait.

It was a potion most inmates in Azkaban would kill for. Brewed by Hogwarts own greasy Potions Professor, it countered the effects of the Dementors with considerable efficiency; a reason why Malfoy Manor was one of the first stops for any escaped Death Eaters. He waited with bated breath for the concoction to take effect; hoping that intervention had not come too late. He could barely contain his relief when her eyelids fluttered and her breathing became more regular.

The room around her slowly swam into view. She felt like she was emerging from a long and frightful dream. A blonde figure was moving before here eyes and terrifying images from her dream assailed her mind. Her eyes snapped open and she tried in vain to get away from her tormentor, scrabbling back across the pillows.

The moment her eyes jerked suddenly open and he saw the terror within them; he understood what was reeling through her mind. She was not thinking straight and she was still working on the memories the Dementors had forced her to re-live. Her eyes were wide and frightened as she fumbled away from him; the same look that had filled them two years ago. The group at the door could see that she was frightened but, before they could move, he had plunged forwards and captured her lips with his.

She fought him at first; her hands beating against his chest until she began to remember. Every touch and sensation was familiar and comforting. She slowly responded; reacquainting herself with him, hardly daring to believe that he was really there. It was over all too soon though; Harry and Sirius rushing over and wrenching him off her, almost throwing him across the room. She lay there taking deep, ragged breaths; memories of what had transpired flooding back to her.

With Malfoy sitting sullenly in an armchair, Hermione and Ron rushed to join Harry and Sirius at her side. She let them fuss over her; propping her up on pillows and pouring her tea, not letting on that they had deprived her of the one thing she really needed. She felt immeasurably tired, even though they explained to her that she had been unconscious for over six days.

"You didn't think that we'd abandoned you, did you?" Harry asked his sister earnestly. "We didn't, it was just taking some time to even get the Minister to listen." Fudge shifted uncomfortably at these words.

"To be honest, Harry, I don't really remember much from the past two weeks." She shook her head, resting her cup of tea on her knees. Her stomach gave a small growl, suddenly noticing the absence of food.

"You must be starving!" Hermione exclaimed at the sound. "I completely forgot."

"I'll go get you something from the kitchens." Ron volunteered, looking forward to the chance to snoop around Malfoy's home. "Coming Harry?"

"Yeah." Harry nodded and stood up to follow his friend. "We'll be back soon, ok." He reassured his sister before disappearing out the door.

"I think I'd better go check the library, you know, look up anything useful. There's got to be some books of use in that library. Do you mind?" she asked Kathryn.

"Hermione, you've been dying to get at those books for ages," Kathryn gave a feeble laugh, "go ahead, I don't mind." She practically ran out the door, followed by Sirius who stopped and growled in Fudge's ear.

"Don't you dare leave her alone with him." Fudge gave a small nod and then the room was silent. Kathryn sat propped up in bed sipping her tea whilst Malfoy remained silently in his chair. Although he did not speak, she knew what he was thinking and she desperately tried to convey that she reciprocated. Her lips seemed to burn from his kiss before, and she felt a familiar sensation rise up within her. He looked endearingly handsome to her; sitting there in his shirt and trousers, his hair falling across his face slightly. She saw the evidence of his haste to get to her in the way his shoes and jacket were thrown aside on the floor and she felt her heart swell with happiness.

Looking across the room at her, it was plain for him to see that she wanted rid of Fudge as soon as possible. Despite being awake and alive, she seemed terribly lacklustre. Her eyes seemed to have lost their sparkle and she had not smiled once. Sure, she had given her brother and friends a few weak smiles, but not one of them had actually reached her eyes. It was all he took not to grab his wand, which he noticed was leaning against the far bedside cabinet, and hex Fudge into oblivion. He would never forgive them if she never returned to her normal self; if the fire burning within her was permanently extinguished.

"Would you excuse us a moment Fudge." It was not a question, but an order.

"I most certainly will not." Fudge said huffily, crossing his arms.

"Miss Potter is the legal guardian of my estate and I am therefore entitled to a private discussion with her." Fudge couldn't argue with that. He began to stammer at him, but he could find no reasonable argument to say no. He backed out of the door with an anxious look at Kathryn, who was doing her best to look no happier, in fact, she managed to twist her face into a grimace. It was only when Malfoy closed the doors behind him with a click that her mouth cracked into a smile. She set her cup down on the bedside table as he sat on the mattress beside her. Reaching out, he gently brushed a stray hair from her cheek. She was still cold and her normal colouring had not yet returned to her cheeks. Without speaking, he ran his hand down her bare arm and took one of her hands in his own.

"Are you sure you're alright?" he asked of her, not taking his gaze off her.

"I don't know." She whispered softly, her eyes filled with sadness and pain. "I just feel empty." When she spoke these words, he saw the burning desire that she felt. She hoped that he was picking up on the hints she was giving; all she wanted now, and for the last month, was him.

It had not taken Harry and Ron long to procure some food from the kitchens, what had taken up their time was persuading the house elves that she did not need her favourite French pastries, or coffee, or orange juice. The eager creatures had tried to give them bacon, sausages, eggs, beans and anything else they could think of before accepting that the two boys only wanted a few slices of toast. Hermione and Sirius returned from the library with a few books that contained some handy charms that would, hopefully, counteract the effect of the Dementors. What both parties did not expect to find upon their return, however, was Fudge standing outside the firmly shut doors.

"I told you not to leave him alone with her." Sirius snarled, advancing on Fudge.

"He has a legal right to talk to her." Fudge protested. "She controls the Estate for the time being. That means that she controls what goes out and I am not about to lose the Malfoy support."

"You are an idiot." Harry sneered, shoving the toast into Ron's hands and heading straight for the door. He ignored Hermione's pleas to stop and thundered through; the sight that met his eyes making his stomach turn.

Lucius Malfoy was, in no uncertain terms, on top of his sister and all Harry could do was thank whoever it was that invented bed sheets. Malfoy's elbows were resting on the mattress, propping him up above her as he placed light kisses all over her face. Harry did his best not to vomit as she gave a small moan and then giggled as his fine blond hair tickled her neck. Kathryn's eyes were nearly fully closed, her eyelids fluttering slightly. In Harry's mind she looked barely conscious and, despite the urge to go and pull her off him, he found that he could not move.

Unfortunately, his theory of her being so unaware of what was happening was flattened when he saw her kiss him back and hold him tightly to her chest. He felt as if he was about to faint. Malfoy noticed his intrusion first; giving him a cool stare and showing not the slightest hint of embarrassment.

"No peeking, Potter." He said with an arrogant smirk, grabbing Kathryn's wand from the bedside table and slamming the door in his face and locking it with a click.

Fuming, Harry banged on the door with his fist until it became apparent that it would not be opening any time soon. With a dark look at Fudge, he turned on his heel and stormed down the stairs. Hermione and Ron followed with anxious looks on their faces whilst Sirius looked as if he was prepared to rip Fudge limb from limb. He stalked after Harry and the others, leaving Fudge to follow in his wake. They sat silently in one of the downstairs drawing rooms, trying not to think about what was going on upstairs and hoping that it would be over soon.

He reappeared after just over an hour looking supremely self-satisfied, with a smirk just playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Where is she?" Sirius barked as the man settled himself comfortably in a chair.

"Sleeping." He replied simply, brushing a few creases out of his jacket.

"You're sick." Ron muttered from his seat next to Hermione. Malfoy merely shrugged in a disinterested manner. Fudge, desperate to try and wrest control over the situation, set about discussing the topic of Kathryn's continued incarceration.

"I am not going to let you lock her up again." Sirius told him in a dangerous tone.

"I am not going to lock her up." Fudge retorted.

"Last time I checked, that's what house arrest was." Hermione replied dryly.

"I want her to remain within the confines of this house."

"Over my dead body." Harry snapped. "I am not having you making her look like she has done something wrong."

"And you think she is blameless, do you?"

"You have not let her tell the truth about what happened!"

"Plus, you believe Malfoy's account," Ron added in a condescending tone, "hasn't he been deceiving you for the past twenty years or something?" Ron gave Fudge a sarcastic smile.

"She has still done wrong and deserves to be punished!"

"Don't you think that she has been punished enough already." Malfoy finally spoke from his chair.

"Forgive me, but your opinion has little sway anymore." Fudge sneered.

"Do not think me ignorant of what has been going on." The disdain in his voice was palatable. "There are always those who, with a little persuasion, will procure newspapers for the inmates. Everyone knows that the Ministry controls the Prophet to an extent so I can't help but think that you were involved in causing the rumour and gossip to turn into actual accusations of 'treason', as you so like to put it."

"What else can it be called?" Fudge asked indignantly.

"What it was."

"And are you going to let us in on what it actually was?" Fudge said with contempt.

"I have no right to. I could give you every single detail, of course, but I do not think it right when Miss Potter obviously wishes that you do not find out yet." Harry, Ron and Hermione could not believe what he was saying. "It is her decision when to tell you."

Kathryn, who had been standing outside the door throughout this exchange, felt a huge surge of gratefulness to him. She did plan to tell Fudge the truth eventually, but she would rather that it was before many people so he could not twist the facts. If necessary, she would stand before the Wizengamot and tell them, under oath, every detail they wished to know if it would allow her to live in peace.

Her entrance to the room caused a stir; Harry and Sirius both springing from their seats with concerned looks on their faces. She was wearing her favourite green dressing gown of his and carrying his cane, her fingers absent-mindedly fiddling with the serpent's head. Fudge looked as if he was about to speak, but a single, imperious look from her silenced him in the way only the very powerful could. What frightened Fudge more than anything, however, was how much she resembled a Malfoy. Despite only wearing a pair of baggy pyjama bottoms and a strappy top, she seemed to exude the power and influence that had forever been associated with the Malfoy family.

With a small smirk, she ignored the empty chairs and instead headed straight towards the elder Malfoy. After all, why bother hiding anything after what Harry had seen? Carefully, she settled herself, to the room's collective astonishment, in his lap. In response to their unspoken horror, she merely raised her eyebrows and leaned further into his chest; her lips grazing the soft skin of his neck.

"Ah, yes, well," Fudge was distinctly unnerved, "we were just discussing what to, er, do with you now."

"I heard." Kathryn replied in a distracted tone as Lucius' fingers were, at that moment, stroking the soft skin at the back of her neck.

"Ah. Then you must understand our predicament." She found Fudge's attempt to put his problem into polite terms laughable.

"I will stay here if you want me to," she offered, her hand drifting beneath his jacket and running across his chest. It was then that she realised that there was something drastically wrong. "Will I be allowed to go out if I need to?" she asked distractedly.

"As long as you keep your affairs quiet, yes, you may." Fudge conceded. "We do not want any scenes like last time."

"I don't think that my sister intended to find herself at the mercy of a bloodthirsty mob." Harry retorted. "Nor did she make any attempt to provoke them."

Kathryn couldn't really hear what was being said. She shouldn't be able to feel his ribs so starkly through his shirt. Her eyes fell to his chest before snapping back to look in his grey eyes. He shouldn't be this thin; not after only a month in Azkaban. She wondered at how she had not noticed before but, then again, she had been fairly out of it. An unspoken understanding passed between them as her hands further explored his torso; the skeletal structure far too pronounced for her liking.

"You will stay here?" Fudge hardly dared to believe that she had agreed.

"Yes, I will stay here," she said distractedly, not looking Fudge in the eye, "but first I believe we must discuss the terms."

"What?"

"Terms, Fudge, terms." She spoke to him with the same tone that Lucius always reserved for those beneath him.

"I'm afraid that you are in no position to discuss any terms with me." He rearranged his cloak haughtily.

"Oh but I am." She pointedly ran her hand over Malfoy's ribs so that they could all see. "I know many lose their minds and refuse food, but this;" she ran her hands over his ribs again, "this is much more than that."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Is it Ministry policy to withhold food in exchange for, oh lets say, information?" She spoke as if it were merely a passing thought, but she could see by the look on Fudge's face that she was straying into territory that he did not want explored. "Oh, touched a nerve have I?" she said in an innocent voice, a satisfied smirk playing across her features.

"Are you saying what I think you are?" Harry asked his sister. "Because if you are, then you have sunk to a new low." He addressed Fudge with an expression of disgust. Even though he hated the man who had his sister in his lap, it was not acceptable to starve a man just to get him to talk.

"You do know that breaks the International Confederation of Wizards' statute for the ethical treatment of prisoners." Hermione told Fudge in a knowledgeable, and disgusted, voice. "Not that I would call Dementors ethical, of course."

"I, I…" Fudge stammered helplessly.

"I'll tell you what," Kathryn spoke up again, "I'll trade you Lucius' safety for my silence. If I can be sure that he is not being mistreated, I will keep my silence and not go public with what has gone on here until the issue comes to trial." Malfoy smiled at her cunning; proud of the way she was twisting the situation to secure both his, and her own, safety. "You do have no choice in this matter, by the way." She added with a wicked smile. Despite still being pale and weak, her voice held a tone of unquestionable strength and determination.

"I, well, I," Fudge was still apparently lost for words.

"Glad to hear that you agree." She murmured, snuggling closer to Lucius' chest. Not really paying mind to who was in the room, she began to toy with one of his jacket buttons; nuzzling gently at his neck.

"Yes, well, as that's settled," Fudge stood, straightening out his cloak and looking nervously at the pair of them, "I think it's time we left."

"Shame," she whispered, "I was going to have some fun." With surprising agility, she slid off his lap and strode out the door in a way that only enticed him to follow; gazing back at him and sashaying her hips as she walked. The rest of the group set after them and, at the sight of how closely they were following; she broke into a sprint, the dressing gown flying out behind her. Malfoy was hot on her heels and, as they skidded to a stop before the bedroom doors, all Harry, Ron, Hermione and Sirius saw was her smirk as she shut and locked the doors.

"This is not good." Harry said glumly, kicking a small table angrily, as they stood before the locked doors. "And I'm not standing round to listen." He stalked off back downstairs, disgusted that his sister could do such a thing.

"They're waiting." He said in a feeble attempt to dissuade her.

"I don't care. Let them wait." She smirked and pushed her hips to him, her lips greedily searching out his. "They're not taking you away that easily." She threw the dressing gown aside and worked her hands beneath his shirt.

"This does not make you look good." He warned as his hands yanked her top over her head, his fingers then falling to the waistband of her pyjamas.

"I don't care." She murmured between kisses as he pulled her down to the bed. "Who knows when you'll next be here?" she gasped desperately. "And, I say it for the third time, I don't care!" she gave a shuddering cry as she saw bright lights behind her eyelids and she felt him slowly lower himself onto her body. She wrapped her legs about his waist and pulled him even closer, her back arching with every touch.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Sirius and Fudge were waiting in the entrance hall when they finally came down. Kathryn had a healthy pink glow in her cheeks and Malfoy looked, as ever, completely smug. Her arm was through his and she still carried his cane; balancing it perfectly in her fingers, as if she had always carried it. She had changed, but in Harry's eyes, it looked no better than the pyjamas and dressing gown. Elegant folds of luxurious, midnight blue velvet hung from her gentle curves in the form of a surprisingly plain dress.

"What are you wearing?" Harry asked with an exasperated sneer.

"Clothes." She replied simply, cocking an eyebrow at her brother. "If you'll remember I didn't have any and I am not going to keep on wearing dirty pyjamas for ever." She smoothed down the front of her dress whilst Malfoy pulled on his cloak. Harry merely scowled as he kissed her cheek.

"Be good." She whispered in his ear, a smirk playing across her face as her lips found his.

"Of course." He whispered back, holding her tight before walking out to the waiting car.

"Oh don't tell me you're sad to see him go!" Harry asked her incredulously, noticing a pinprick of water in the corner of her eye. "You can't tell me that you actually like that man. He has just twisted your mind to make you what he wants," he strode over to her, grasping her by the shoulders and looking straight into her eyes, "this is not you." He implored her, pulling at the fabric of her dress. "This house is not you. You belong with us."

"I don't know where I belong anymore." She said solemnly, puling away from his grasp and walking back upstairs. "I have spent so much time here, not all of it pleasant, but I cannot just deny it happened." The bed had been made in the few minutes they had been gone, the doors to the balcony stood open and her pyjamas had disappeared.

"But you can move on. You can distance yourself from him before this gets worse." Harry implored her as she leant against the balustrade and looked out over the grounds.

"I think it's a little late for that." She replied sarcastically. "Besides, I've already agreed to be guardian of the estate so it's not like I can't be associated with him."

"Exactly how many times did you come here?" Hermione asked, not wanting to believe her best friend capable of loving that vile man.

"I've lost count. I did not come willingly at first." She explained carefully. "He would just find me whenever I was in Hogsmeade and I didn't really have a choice."

"But just because he did this to you doesn't mean that you are bound to live your life like this."

"What other life can I lead?" she yelled at her brother, tears trickling down her cheeks. "Who will accept me now?" she stormed off the balcony and back onto the landing.

"Once people know the truth." Harry called out, following her.

"Once people understand it wasn't your fault." Sirius added, not liking the idea of his god-daughter being associated with such a family.

"It was my fault!" she cried in an anguished voice. "I should never have tried to help!"

"No, your wanting to help was fine." Sirius corrected her. "You just should have told us."

"It doesn't really matter anymore, does it?" she was now walking along the long portrait gallery. "It's all anyone will see!"

"Don't say that." Hermione didn't like to see her friend like this.

"But they will!" she cried. "I'm damaged goods! No one wants a Death Eater's cast off!"

"You aren't damaged!" Harry cried back.

"I am! No one can go through what I did and not be damaged, Harry!"

"But once people understand." He implored her. "They will understand that you're not responsible."

"But it's not over Harry!" she had stopped before his portrait. "I am not a cast-off. I cannot distance myself because I do not want to." She looked up at his image. "I can't." She whispered, almost inaudibly.

"That's just stupid." Harry scoffed. "Of course you can, it's not like he means anything."

"Fine." She turned on her heel and stalked off towards the stairs. She was not going to have Harry pursuing this subject any further, for even she did not know the full extent of his intentions and had no desire for her brother and friends to begin considering them.


	51. Chapter 51

A/N - Another bumper pack of updates for you before I lose my internet connection in the move back to University!! Please read, review and enjoy!!

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They were all very ill at ease with how well she settled into the Manor. It disturbed them that she knew her way around and the fact that she appeared comfortable in the grand setting only made them more wary. She seemed to glide through the rooms like a ghost, remembering everything that had come to pass within these walls. Now bound to her agreement with Fudge, they were going to have to get used to her living here for the immediate future.

Fudge had given no indication of when his trial would be held; the Wizengamot was overstretched as it was and under pressure to reach verdicts. Of course, with Fudge sitting as Chair, the pressure to come to decisions was even greater. Kathryn was increasingly beginning to worry that Fudge would postpone his trial for as long as possible. Despite the fact that the trial of Lucius Malfoy; the trial of Pureblood society's heavyweight, would be one of the most highly anticipated events in the aftermath of Voldemort's fall, Fudge seemed none too keen to get on with it.

Due to their newfound obligations as war heroes and heroines, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Sirius and Ginny could not visit her as much as she would have liked. She was sure that this was, in part, the work of Fudge; trying to see if depriving her of her friends would make her crack. She wouldn't, however, for she was cut of thicker cloth. Also, what Fudge had conveniently forgotten was that she had the entire Manor to explore of her own free will.

She explored most of it when Harry, Ron and Hermione were around; they wanted to see Malfoy's domain as much as she. Using the sheaf of parchment the solicitor had given her, they explored the many underground passages and hidden rooms the Manor had to offer. It did not surprise them that they did not lead anywhere pleasant; although the secret compartment under the drawing room floor was empty.

The first room they found in the cellars seemed to be some kind of collection of Death Eater property. There were vials of dark liquid that looked horribly like blood stored in an ebony box. Each had a faded label with a name and a date neatly written across.

"That is just sick." Ron muttered darkly as he surveyed an impressive, yet disturbing, collection of knives. Of course, these were nothing compared with what Malfoy had in his own personal playground. She did manage to re-open that room without making herself sick; doing so, however, once she was alone in the house. She had a feeling that Harry wouldn't have wanted her to be exploring such a disturbing place. Her curiosity, however, was insatiable and she studied everything; from the neatly arranged implements that hung from the walls to the dark stains that seemed to be everywhere. Nothing in this macabre collection looked unused, despite how highly polished they might be. Her eyes landed immediately on the gleaming dagger with the jewelled hilt. It was the exact same one that he had taunted her with two years ago and, judging by its position in its own special holder, it was one of his favourite toys.

The first passage they explored led first to a set of furnished rooms that appeared to have been made to hide his family, should the need arise. Through another doorway concealed in the stone walls, they came to another passage to which they could not see the end. Lighting their wands, the four of them walked on for what felt like miles before the tunnel finally ended in a set of steps that led them straight to a wall. Running her fingers across the stone in a now practiced manner, Kathryn found the groove and slipped her ring into the keyhole to unlock the door. It opened out into a plain looking room; a great contrast to the plush appearance of the secret chambers they had just left. Looking out of the dirty window, Hermione could see that they were in the small Muggle village that was near the Malfoy Estate.

"It's funny isn't it?" Hermione commented as she peeked out the window. "He despises Muggles but sees fit to use them as an escape route."

"Yes," Kathryn murmured, "and all the time my escape route was across the corridor." She said, referring to the fact that this passage was located exactly opposite to the room where he had kept her prisoner. Not that she would've been able to get out, but it was still the principle behind it. For him, it must have been funny to keep her so near a way of escape.

The next passage they found was in the cavernous wine cellar, accessed by rearranging the wine bottles sitting in the rack in the right sequence. No one could have figured it out; the lock responding to the exact weight in each holder. This passage had three doors within it, each one made to look like a solid stone wall, and each one opened by a different means. The air became colder and the darkness more intense as they walked down the passage, descending far below the Manor. Ron was just beginning to complain as they passed through the third hidden door and they were all considering turning back when they hit a smooth stone wall engraved with the Malfoy crest.

"See, I told you it wasn't much further." She cocked an eyebrow at Ron who, in the darkness, couldn't see it.

"Well, let's hope there's a fire or something inside because I'm bloody freezing!" he rubbed his bare arms in a vain effort to keep warm.

"Ok, now," she studied the parchment by the faint light of her wand, "the last key is the ring so, if I put it here," she slipped the ring into part of the crest, "the door should open." The stone slid apart to reveal a pitch black room. With a wave of her wand, she lit the candles that sat in brackets on the walls.

"It's a library!" Hermione whispered as her eyes alighted upon hundreds of books. "Another one!" she could barely contain her delight.

"Well, don't touch just yet," Kathryn laid a steadying hand on her friends shoulder, "there is a probably a good reason why they were down here."

"It's probably where dear Draco found the curse he used on you." Harry muttered as he walked further in and began to read the titles.

There were several armchairs in the room, an empty fireplace and a desk or two for reading. There wasn't a trace of dust anywhere and, judging by the piles of books that hadn't been returned to their proper place; the room was not left unused.

"This was banned in fifteen sixty-seven!" Hermione cried from the far wall, pointing to a blood red volume with silver lettering.

"Don't touch it." Ron warned her again. "I wouldn't put it past Malfoy to have every banned Dark Arts text stashed somewhere."

"I think we found his hiding place." Harry said dryly as he examined a set of volumes concealed behind a glass door. "Hermione, what do you think to these?" he pointed out the small books.

"Oh my God!" Hermione clapped a hand to her mouth when she saw them. "Only three complete sets of those are known to exist." She paused for a moment whilst she counted all fifteen volumes. "They're all there. And he's got three of the five remaining copies of 'Chaland's Guide to Practical Dark Arts'. They were outlawed by the Ministry in the twenties." She explained, pointing out the three, dark green volumes. "It's believed that they are where Voldemort gained some of his knowledge. I've read about them and they are supposed to be full of stuff darker than we can imagine."

"Sounds like an interesting read." Kathryn commented, running her hands over the texts that lined the walls. "I'll bet he has everything here. If it was outlawed, banned or placed under strict controls; he will have a copy. I'll bet you couldn't even obtain some of this stuff from Knockturn Alley's most despicable shopkeepers; even Borgin and Burke's."

"What are you going to do about it?" Harry was uneasy of his sister being in possession of things which, if discovered, were worth a long sentence in Azkaban.

"Well," she paused for a moment to think, "none of what you've seen leaves this room." She told them sternly. "I'm not giving Fudge even more ammunition."

"But everything in here is illegal!" Hermione protested as Kathryn made to leave.

"And they are quite secure there, I think you can realise that." Kathryn reminded Hermione with a smile. "Besides, what Fudge doesn't know won't hurt him." she shrugged as the three of them followed, the lights extinguishing as the doors closed.

"You mean you're actually going to protect him?" Harry asked her incredulously as they walked quickly back up the passage. "After what he did?"

"Yes." She replied assuredly, sealing the door behind them once Ron had exited into the wine cellar. "I am, technically, the owner of this house for the time being and the penalty for possession of those books would fall upon me. What I really don't need is a spell in Azkaban."

"But Fudge would understand; it isn't your house, they aren't your books." Harry rationalised. "He would understand that they're Malfoy's."

"Fudge is just looking for ways to shut me away, Harry!" she exclaimed, storming out of the cellar. "He wouldn't care!"

"We could get rid of them." Ron suggested at they trailed after her.

"I think not." Hermione retorted indignantly. "I'm not getting rid of a collection that good, even if they are full of Dark Magic."

"I'd hope not." Kathryn found it comforting that Hermione was siding with her on this. "We shouldn't let Moody hear about this because he'd be here in a flash with his firelighters. It is not mine to do anything with anyway, it still belongs to him."

"What about that other passage?" Ron asked. "You said there were two in the cellar."

"Yes, there are two, but you all have to be getting along, don't you?" she cast her eyes at the clock. "Don't want to miss your appointment with Fudge."

"I hate that man." Harry grumbled as he too looked at the clock, they had to be at the Ministry in five minutes. "He's just trying to look like he has our support. He's managed to keep the fact that he had put you under house arrest very well hidden. If I didn't know better, I would have said Malfoy was helping him, but that is out of the realm of possibility."

"I think the man has more of a brain then we give him credit for." Kathryn summoned the small box of Floo power from above the fireplace. "You can come back tomorrow if you like. I won't be going out." She said rather gloomily as they all took a pinch of the green powder. She could tell something was wrong when they all cast each other nervous glances. "But if you can't it's ok." She quickly added, replacing the box and not meeting their gaze.

"Well, it's just that we have to do some interview about it all at lunchtime tomorrow." Hermione quickly explained. "For the Daily Prophet."

"Won't that raise questions about me?"

"They're not allowed to ask about you and we wouldn't answer if they did." Harry quickly said. Despite his reservations and anger over what had happened; Harry had quickly realised that his support was invaluable to his sister.

"I guess I am going to conveniently slip into obscurity then." She tried to sound casual. "Soon everyone will forget that I was even there and I will only be remembered for the scandal. My name will become synonymous with treachery and I will live out my life in quiet, but abject humiliation." It disturbed the three of them to hear how far she had thought this through. "At least that is what I think Fudge has planned for me."

"Oh come on, he can't have thought that far ahead." Hermione brushed off her worries.

"Oh he can, he's had Malfoy whispering in his ear for years. I can assure you that he had an adequate capacity for scheming." She grinned mischievously as Harry threw his Floo powder into the fire. "He just doesn't realise that I'm not that easy to break."

Once they had gone, she retired to his study to formulate her plan. Fudge had, after all, given her permission to leave the grounds should she have a pressing matter of business. The offices of the Daily Prophet were in Diagon Alley and she hadn't yet paid a visit to Gringotts to inspect the Malfoy vault. What she hadn't told her brother was that Malfoy had also passed on some of his devious ways to her as well.


	52. Chapter 52

A/N - A trip to Diagon Alley...although thankfully less traumatic than the last. She shows herself to be mistress of the publicity stunt, but also gets a shock at the bank! Read, review and enjoy!!

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She rose the next morning with a great sense of anticipation welling up inside her stomach. She owled Gringotts in advance to inform them of her plans before she even had eaten breakfast, finally remembering the bacon sandwich and coffee the House Elves had sent when she began to read the morning edition of the Prophet. It was then that she began to get dressed; showering and spending an inordinate amount of time on her hair to make sure that it was just so. The whole point of this was to make her presence felt and she couldn't do that with her hair looking like she had just got out of bed. She twisted it loosely around a long silver pin set with a large emerald so it sat at the nape of her neck and then set about picking her outfit.

She had learned a long time ago that what you wore could make all the difference to the way people saw you. She was not, for example, going to show up in her usual jeans and top. Nor was she going to appear in her best gown. She did not want to settle for the easy option of black because then she would go relatively unnoticed. The whole point of this was to be noticed, like he had told her, she couldn't let them forget her. Frustrated, she turned to what used to be his wife's wardrobe. Surprisingly, all her clothes were still there; immaculate rows of all the outfits you could ever think of. Some were far to lavish for her to even consider wearing in public and others were just too old for her.

She turned back to her own clothes and finally found a compromise in a floaty, cream chiffon dress that ended just above her knees. It had no sleeves and a piece of the fabric was wrapped horizontally around her midriff; giving it an almost corseted look. She wrapped a fur stole, dyed dark blue, about her shoulders, before slipping her feet into an impossibly high pair of satin covered blue heels, with peep-toes and platform soles, to match her shrug. As a finishing touch, she set the diamond necklace he had bought her for her birthday around her neck and slipped her wand into a blue clutch.

She swept out of the room and down into the entrance hall, her heels and the tip of the cane tapping on the floor. Everything was as she had requested it. The familiar, sleek black car was waiting outside when she descended the front steps and, as soon as she closed the door, it glided quietly down the drive and out the gates. They sped towards London, the car ignoring most of the Muggle road laws as Wizarding cars wee prone to do. This, of course, meant that they reached the street in front of the Leaky Cauldron in record time.

She knew that the main thoroughfare in Diagon Alley was mainly a pedestrian zone, but she had seen cars and carriages go down every so often. Come to think of it, she was sure it had been this car she had seen. Fudge had said that she was to keep as low a profile as possible. As if reading her mind, the driver moved on and turned into the little alley behind the pub. At first, all she could see was a brick wall and a few large rubbish bins; but then the bricks began to shift and form an archway, not unlike the one through which you accessed Diagon Alley when you came on foot.

The car edged slowly forwards, waiting for people who were milling around to get out of the way. They looked surprised, as if a car in Diagon Alley was a rare thing. She was very glad for the darkened windows, as she was sure that her presence in the car would cause more excitement than the car itself. People had no doubt recognised the crest on the grille at the front, judging by the way they were staring and pointing. She sank lower in her seat and, for the first time, wondered if she was doing the right thing. Memories of what they had done to her the last time she went to Diagon Alley flared in her mind and she gripped the serpent headed cane a little tighter. She had two wands on her, but she had never used his before so she couldn't be sure if it would work as well as her own wand. She had little time to think, however, as the huge white façade of Gringotts Bank came into view.

Up in the Daily Prophet's offices, Harry, Ron and Hermione were shut up in the editor's stuffy office; trying to explain how Voldemort had been defeated without actually telling the man anything. Thankfully they had first been asked for general information in order to build up a profile for the readers. They had been at this for over an hour, and there was no sign of him relenting in his questions. Harry was busy thinking about how much this office resembled Professor Trelawney's classroom back at Hogwarts when a harried looking, young reporter wearing jeans and a baggy Weird Sisters T-shirt burst into the room.

"Roper!" the editor yelled. "Can't you see I'm busy?" he gestured at the three of them seated before him.

"Sorry sir," the young wizard panted, "but I thought you'd like to know that the Malfoy car has just pulled into Diagon Alley." He finished, still gasping for breath.

"What!" the editor bellowed. "Why didn't you tell me about this sooner?"

"Sorry sir," the wizard panted, leaning against the doorframe, "ran all the way from Madame Malkin's." The editor stood and dashed to the small window, checking to see if the car was anywhere near.

"By Merlin, you're right!" he exclaimed loudly as Harry, Ron and Hermione crowded at the other window. "He can't have bought himself out already." He muttered darkly. "The gall of the man." He obviously thought that the car contained Lucius Malfoy, but Harry was sure that it was another person entirely. After all, no one else knew that his sister was now occupying Malfoy Manor.

"He's heading for Gringotts!" the editor exclaimed, not caring where the people in the room were interested or not. "Probably going to get the gold that he needs to fill Fudge's coffers."

"Would you like me to send someone out there sir?" the wizard, still panting, asked.

"No, I'll go myself." The editor puffed out his chest importantly.

"Would you like us to come back another time then?" Hermione asked hopefully.

"Certainly," the editor put on his silkiest voice, "any time is convenient." he gave them a small bow as they hurriedly exited the room.

"What is she doing coming back here?" Hermione hissed as soon as they were out of earshot. "After what happened last time?"

"Well I doubt that Fudge let Malfoy out." Ron said as they spilled out onto the street. "We'd have heard about it before now of he was."

"I wonder what she's up to." Harry could see the car now, pulling to a halt at the front steps of Gringotts. He was sure that, through the tinted windows, he could make out the familiar black hair that was his sister.

Inside the car, Kathryn was well aware of the onlookers who were watching their progress towards Gringotts. Of course, this was exactly what she had wanted to happen. People would be drawn to the car by the current furore surrounding the man that usually travelled in it. She found it funny that she had almost choreographed this entire thing in her mind.

"Well, here goes." She whispered to herself as her driver opened the car door.

She let the silver tip of the cane precede her, settling on the pavement with a sharp click before her legs followed and she slid gracefully out of the car. There were several gasps as the door slammed shut and she drew herself up to her full height. She ignored these and headed up the white marble steps, her dress swishing about her knees. She heard the muttered comments but brushed them off with a small smile; this was exactly the effect she had wanted to achieve. People would remember that she still existed and, more importantly, people might begin to call for his trial to be brought forward.

She paused just as she came to the set of bronze doors, twirling around to look back at the crowd behind her. She spotted Harry, Ron and Hermione fighting their way through. It was then that she gave the small group of gathered photographers the image that would be gracing the morning's front covers. Framed by the open doorway, she gave the assembled crowd an appraising look before tipping the cane to Harry and giving him a small wink. Without another glance, she swept through the bronze doors and then the silver ones that followed before arriving in the expansive white marble room that was Gringotts main foyer.

"Miss Potter." The goblin at one of the free desks greeted her. "What may I do for you?"

"I trust you received my letter."

"We did."

"Then you will understand my change in circumstances and the reasons for my visit." She told him, noting the few people giving her wary looks as they entered the bank.

"Certainly."

"I will also need a summary of all regular standing orders or regular recipients of money from the Malfoy vault. I do not want money going places I do not wish."

"Certainly, we will have that ready for you as soon as you return. Griphook will show you to the vault." The goblin appeared beside her and led her away to the waiting carts that would take them deep beneath Diagon Alley.

It was an exhilarating ride, a thing that Hagrid detested, but something that set her pulse racing a lot like it did when she flew. The cart took her deeper than she had ever been, following a complex, twisting track that no one could even hope to remember. She was thankful for her stole as the temperature dropped rapidly, pulling it tighter about her shoulders.

The vault they reached was one of the most ornate she had ever seen. The Malfoy crest was carved in the stone above the door. The door itself was carved with snakes and was framed by two stone pillars with snakes coiled around them. There was no lock, but then she saw the now familiar ring-shaped hole carved out into the metal. Griphook ran one finger down the centre of the door and she heard the many hundreds of complex locks release.

"Your key?" Griphook motioned to the hole in the door. Obligingly, Kathryn stepped forwards and slipped the ring in. It turned a quarter clockwise and then a half turn anti clockwise before releasing her finger. With a series of clicks, the last few locks were released and the door swung silently forwards on its hinges.

It was possibly the largest vault she had ever seen and she actually had to shield her eyes for a moment from the dazzling glare of the vault's contents. Blinking, she stepped into the vault; about the same size as the entire ground floor and garden of the Dursley's house at number four Privet Drive. She had known that Lucius was rich, but this was obscene. Shining stacks of Galleons, Sickles and Knuts were piled up everywhere but there was more to the Malfoy fortune than just money. On tables there were boxes of jewels and delicate, valuable instruments whilst several works of art were stood against the walls. The many treasures were impossible to count at once and she kept on spotting new things as she walked through.

"How much is here?" she asked Griphook in a slightly shaky voice.

"Just over five hundred million Galleons." The goblin told her quickly. She felt her knees shake a little as she digested that figure. If Lucius Malfoy did anything for a living, it was money farming. "That is only the gold; the value of other things depends on current market values." He continued helpfully.

"What's that in Muggle pounds?" she asked tentatively to get a better idea of how much she was looking at were she a Muggle.

"Just under two and a half billion Muggle pounds; around five billion Muggle dollars." Griphook added for greater clarity.

"Ok. We can go now; this is all I needed to do." She stepped back outside the vault, taking two diamonds and two emeralds with her; stowing them safely in her bag before stepping back into the cart.

Her eyes were again dazzled as she stepped into the white marble hall and returned to the same desk she had gone to upon arrival.

"I take it everything is in order?" the goblin asked, handing her a sheet of parchment. "Here is the list you requested."

"Yes, everything was fine." Her eyes quickly scanned the parchment and she made some quick decisions. "Double the monthly contribution to St Mungo's." She told the goblin who quickly scribbled down a note. "A thousand Galleons a month is perfectly affordable." Her eyes moved further down the list. "I see that Minister Fudge has benefited well from this vault, however indirectly." She pursed her lips, noting the many payments to various Ministry departments and trying to decide what to do. "No further payments are to be made to the Ministry from this vault." The goblin took another note.

"Anything else Miss Potter?"

"I want to be informed of any attempt to withdraw money from the vault and nothing can be taken without mine, or Mr Malfoy's, signature." The goblin nodded again and added a further note as she tucked the parchment he had given her into her bag. "That's everything. Thank you."

"It was a pleasure to be of service." The goblin gave her a small bow. "Good day Miss Potter." She gave him a curt nod before sweeping out of the bank's doors to where the car was still waiting.

The crowd seemed to have dispersed, their interest apparently satisfied. Only Harry, Ron and Hermione stood waiting for her.

"What was that all about?" Harry asked incredulously as soon as she bean to descend the steps.

"Business, I do recall Fudge saying that I could go about my business as long as I did so quietly." The car door was opened for her as she approached.

"That was anything but quiet." Harry retorted. "I'm surprised they didn't start hexing you again."

"It was quiet; I said nothing and did nothing offensive." Kathryn corrected him. "It was the rest of them that decided to make something of my visit." Even Harry could not argue with that.

"But what was the point?"

"To remind them that I'm still here." She gave the three of them a nod before sinking back into the plush interior of the car. "You can come over tomorrow if you like; we still have that last passage to check out." She added before she closed the door. "After all, I've nowhere to go." With that, the door banged shut and the car glided away.


	53. Chapter 53

A/N - A macabre discovery at the end of a passage...and the 'L' word is almost uttered. Hope you enjoy this chapter!!

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She ignored the next morning's copy of the Daily Prophet, leaving it face down on the dining table as she ate her breakfast, waiting for the bell to ring. Just after ten, there was a chime from the entrance hall, followed by the creak of a door opening and the sound of three pairs of feet walking in. The house elves knew well to let the three of them in as Kathryn would always see them, no matter what mood she was in.

"Morning!" she greeted them with a bright smile from where she sat at the head of the table. She was greeted with warm, yet wary smiles from the three of them.

"Seen the paper this morning?" Harry asked casually.

"Well, it's there," she pointed at the face-down copy of the Prophet, "but I'm not sure whether I want to read what it has to say."

"You're little stunt yesterday gave them plenty of cannon fodder."

"It wasn't a stunt." She retorted. "I had to go and check the vault and make sure that money wasn't going places I didn't want it to go."

"And, who was getting generous Malfoy contributions?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Not many. I expect that he used cash for most of his generous donations. Fudge seemed to have profited very well, however indirectly it was, so I have rectified that." She smirked wickedly over the top of her cup.

"He will be pissed at that!" Ron beamed before turning deadly serious again. "So, come on, tell us." He looked eager. "How rich is he really?"

"Why do you think I would tell you that?" she teased. "That is confidential information." She went on, pretending to be truly affronted. "But as it's you," she gave the three of them a cheeky smile, "I will tell you that there is just short of five hundred million Galleons in that vault." The three of them were stunned into silence. Ron kept on opening and closing his mouth like a fish, never managing to say anything.

"What is that in Muggle money?" Hermione asked shakily.

"Around two and a half billion pounds." Kathryn recited from memory. "So I could disappear and live rather comfortably as a Muggle if I wanted." They all stared at her in disbelief. "Not that I want to, of course." She hastily added as she saw their aghast looks.

"Five hundred million." Ron breathed, still trying to get over the shock. "That's more than I could ever dream of."

"It's more than most could ever dream of." Hermione whispered.

"That's not it." Kathryn went on. "There is a fortune in jewels and art down there too. I think there were even some by Muggle artists so, although he plays the arrogant Pureblood, he knows how to get the best of both worlds. Those paintings would be worth millions if he put them on the Muggle market."

"You do realise that you're made if he never gets out, don't you?" Ron commented, helping himself to a pastry.

"I'm made either way, Ron, but I would prefer that I was not despised by society." She set her cup down and stood. "Right, do you want to find out where that last passage leads?" the three of them nodded fervently, looking excited at the prospect of finding something more hidden beneath the house. They pulled on light cloaks before venturing down into the cellars; having found out how cold they could get on previous excursions.

This passage was located right in the centre of the second wine cellar; where hundreds of bottles of champagne were stacked, as well as ports, brandies and whiskies. The only problem was that there was a huge stone table in the middle of the room. This was possibly the trickiest passage to access, as you needed two people to open the door. First, she slipped her fingers into an invisible groove cut into the bottom of the tabletop and pushed a small button down.

"Right, back about three steps Ron." Kathryn directed Ron as he stood in the top corner of the room. "Stop, ok, forward one step and it's the biggest flag there." Ron stepped forwards onto the largest flagstone and, with a rumble, it sunk into the floor. An almighty creak rang around the cellar, followed by an even greater rumble as the table before them slid slowly apart to reveal a steep stone staircase.

"Well, here goes. Lumos!" Kathryn lit her wand and began to slowly descend the steps. Ron, Hermione and Harry flowed suit; wrapping their cloaks more tightly around themselves as they ventured down the draughty passage. There were absolutely no torch brackets on the walls as there had been in the previous passages and they kept on tripping over rocks as they wandered in the dim wand-light.

The passage seemed to go on for miles, and they frequently ran into walls as the path turned sharply to the left or right.

"Whatever's at the end of this had better be good." Ron muttered as they began to slowly climb.

"I don't think anything at the end of a passage this long could be good." Hermione commented warily as the passage banked right whilst still climbing.

"I think we'll find out soon enough." Kathryn told them as the steps stopped ant they were faced by a solid panel of stone right above them.

"How do we get through this one?" Harry asked from behind her.

"You'll never believe it, but, Alohamora." She spoke the incantation and, with a wave of her wand, the stone slid away to give them a view of leafy treetops.

"What is this?" Ron asked incredulously as they ascended the final few steps and emerged into a large, leafy wood. "Malfoy's country hideaway?"

"I doubt it." Kathryn murmured as she walked off into the trees, searching for a clue as to what this place could be. Hermione, meanwhile, was performing several complex charms.

"It's unplottable." She recited. "And it has hundreds of concealment charms and Muggle-repelling spells all over it." Kathryn noticed this abundance of spells in the odd, shimmering light that seemed to emanate from the wood itself. She was well away from the other three by now and, looking across at them, she saw something she had failed to notice before. Sprouting from the ground were many thin wooden poles that were just about knee height. Bending down to look at the nearest one, she saw minute initials carved into the side of the pole. Looking at a few more, she found the same things; although some were too obscured by age and moss to read anything. Looking through the trees, she could see the poles here and there; sticking out a mile now that she had noticed them.

"I know what this is." She told the three of them in a shaky voice, the horrible realisation now dawning upon her. "This is where all those wizards and Muggles went." They looked at her in astonishment. "It's a graveyard."

"How do you know?" Hermione asked in a shaky voice.

"The sticks." She pointed out the ones nearest to them. "Some have got initials on."

"Oh God!" Hermione clapped a hand to her mouth and gave a small gasp. "How many are there?"

"There's got to be over a hundred, easily." Kathryn scanned the woods, trying to keep her voice as calm as possible; knowing how easily she could have been amongst these, just another for the record.

"We've got to tell someone." Harry sounded angry, probably because his mind had come to the same conclusion as she had just done.

"No!" she exclaimed, rushing towards them. "Please no!"

"We can't just ignore it!" Ron said in disbelief. "We can't just pretend that this place doesn't exist."

"Think of how many families can have closure." Hermione added, not looking happy at Kathryn's suggestion.

"Yeah, and think of the problems this will create for me. I do not want the Ministry poking around my house and grounds."

"It's not your house!" Harry shouted at her, unable to believe how irrational she was being.

"It's as good as!" she yelled back. And I'm as good as a Malfoy, she thought to herself.

"What do you propose we do then?" Hermione asked sceptically, crossing her arms.

"Leave it for now." Kathryn said in a calm, level tone. "And see what happens at the trial. If he doesn't escape let it lie. If he does escape punishment, then fine, tell whoever you want." She turned and headed back down the passage without another word to them. Exchanging several worried looks, they followed, locking the door behind them and almost jogging to keep up with her furious strides.

"We can't just let him get away with murder!" Harry yelled after her, running to keep up.

"I'm not saying he is getting away with it!" she shouted back, not breaking stride. "But how do you know that they were all killed by his hand?"

"Well, it's a fair bet most of them were! He can admit to the ones he is to blame for and then turn in the rest!"

"I'll wager anything that Bellatrix Lestrange has a few in there too!" Ron called out after her.

"She may well do!" Kathryn shouted back. "But I am not about to lose the man I-." she just managed to stop her sentence before she dug herself into an even deeper hole. She was grateful, therefore, to reach the flickering torchlight of the wine cellars.

"What?" Harry called out angrily as she took the stone steps two at a time and hit the concealed button to close the door. "The man you what?" his temper was fast rising as Kathryn swept out of the room and climbed the stairs up to the main hall.

"It doesn't matter Harry." She tried to divert his attention from the conclusions his mind was slowly drawing.

"Please don't tell me you actually like him?" Harry demanded incredulously as she cast her cloak aside and practically ran up the stairs. "Don't tell me you actually believe that he cares for you."

"How are you to know what he thinks?" she screamed at her brother, rounding on him furiously.

"He's Lucius Malfoy," Harry told her as if addressing a small child, his voice full of disdain, "he doesn't care for anyone but himself."

"That's what you think." She muttered darkly, storming through the double doors that led into his study. She had never told them that he was the source of the anonymous Christmas parcels and nor had she mentioned that he had even given her family heirlooms.

"I don't think, I know!" Harry shouted back, refusing to back down. "He treats everyone with indifference or hate."

"Everyone except me!" this cry hung in the air, neither daring reply. They remained like this, frozen to the spot for several minutes before Harry opened his mouth to speak again.

"No." she said before he had even begun to form words. "Just leave me alone."

"But," Hermione began, trying to persuade her.

"Just go!" she shouted and the three of them felt an invisible force pushing them over the threshold and, before they could move, the doors slammed and locked in their faces.

"You can't hide forever!" Harry shouted, banging on the door. "Stop fooling yourself!" he stopped when Hermione laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Leave her." She suggested. "Give her time."

"Time!" Harry exclaimed as they walked back through the house. "She's going to have plenty of time if Fudge continues to stall over the trial."

"She's always done things in her own time, Harry, and she is less likely to do anything you want if you push her." Hermione told him in a manner not unlike Professor McGonagall. The three of them took a pinch of Floo powder and, in a whirl of green smoke, disappeared back to twelve Grimmauld Place.


	54. Chapter 54

A/N - An unexpected visit from the most unlikely of people...

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The next day was Sunday, always a lonely day for Kathryn as Ron, Hermione, Harry, Ginny, Sirius and everyone else were always invited to the Burrow for Sunday lunch. Kathryn, although welcome, was excluded from such pleasures by the promise she made to Fudge. Instead, she sat alone with her dinner in the great dining room; pushing the vegetables about her plate with her fork. Although she had a wealth of rooms and expansive grounds to occupy herself in, she could think of no other description for how she felt other than bored. Harry had sent along her Firebolt but, without people to play Quidditch with, flying seemed rather dull. Some days, when she was feeling alright, she would go out in search of the unicorn or bury herself in the library. On others, on her most despondent days, she would not get out of bed.

It was a hot, humid August day and, unsurprisingly; the thunder began to rumble as soon as she finished her lunch. The rain beat against the large mullioned windows and, slightly annoyed that she would not be able to spend her afternoon outside, she settled herself in his study upstairs to read. She did not expect any visitors, and was therefore surprised when one of the house elves appeared.

"Yes?" she asked, not looking up from her book.

"If you please, Miss," the elf squeaked, "Professor Snape is just informing me of his intention to visit in fifteen minutes."

"Professor Snape?" she asked, looking up from her book at the elf.

"Yes Miss, he is just flooing us two minutes ago."

"I suppose I'd better get dressed then." She was still in her pyjama bottoms and oversize shirt that she had worn to bed.

"Where will you receive him, Miss?" the elf asked tentatively. Kathryn found it odd that she was 'receiving' a guest. Normally Harry, Ron and Hermione just came to find her; she did not stand on ceremony.

"Downstairs." She said absentmindedly, padding barefoot down the hallway back towards her bedroom.

"Certainly Miss." The elf squeaked one final time before disappearing with a crack.

Kathryn wasn't really sure what she was doing as she pulled out one of her better dresses from the wardrobe. She would have never considered dressing well for Snape of all people, but somehow it did not feel right to greet someone wearing jeans when you were in such a magnificent place. Granted, the dress she picked was simple, but it was opulent in the understated way. He had bought it for her last summer when he had gone away to London but she had never worn it since; not having the right occasion to wear such a garment.

It was made from thick, yet surprisingly light, black velvet; with an offset v-neck, long flowing sleeves and a long skirt. The skirt was also offset, like the neckline; sitting high on her waist on the right and cutting across her abdomen to sit low on the left. Here, the material was gathered up slightly and fell to the ground in elegant folds. The neckline had an intricate, yet practically invisible, beaded border and, along the stitching that held the gathered material of the skirt together, you could see something glinting when the skirt moved in a certain way. Upon closer inspection, she had found these to be tiny crystals actually sewn onto the garment. She hoped them to be just plain crystal, although the way their many facets danced in the light and their sheer brilliance made her believe that they were possibly something altogether more costly.

She left her hair in its loose waves down her back, slipped her feet into a pair of flat black slippers and fastened the necklace he had given her for her birthday around her neck. She still had five minutes to spare as she stood before the windows downstairs, gazing out onto the gardens that were being soaked in rain. It was getting on for seven in the evening and she wondered why he had decided to call upon her so late. Although, she supposed, he was too busy being fussed over by the Ministry as a war hero to have much time to relax or pursue his own business.

From what she had heard, the Ministry was trying to commandeer every free moment of their time; as if trying to make up for the fact that it had been the Order, and not the Ministry, that had finally defeated Voldemort and is Death Eaters. Her visitor was announced by the quiet sound of a door swinging open and the small cough of a house elf.

Severus Snape was not in a good mood. No one had seen fit to tell him that there were anti-apparition jinxes over Malfoy Manor and that he would not be able to apparate directly to the door. Instead, he had arrived outside the, thankfully, unlocked gates and had endured the mile-long walk down the drive in the current raging thunderstorm. This, and having to suffer near constant owls from Cornelius Fudge, demanding that he do this and that, was enough to render him in a foul mood.

Malfoy Manor looked no less spectacular than usual as he stepped though the main doors and into the cavernous entrance hall. An elf met him promptly and took his sodden cloak before showing him through to one of the drawing rooms in the back of the house. The other half of the infamous Potter duo was standing before the windows and did not acknowledge his entrance apart from a small nod of thanks to the house elf that had shown him in. The door was closed behind him and they stood in silence for a moment.

From behind, she looked nothing spectacular; her dress appeared fairly plain and she had done nothing special with her hair. When she turned, however, he did find himself rather stunned. Her hair fanned out around her as she turned to face him and he realised that thinking her attire plain was a mistake. Large, heavy jewels sat about her neck and her dress was everything he would have expected a Malfoy to wear. Her hands grasped the familiar, serpent-topped cane and she did not smile.

Despite her obvious physical and genetic differences, Snape could not help himself from thinking that what stood before him was a female version of Lucius Malfoy. Her clothes, though fairly understated, spoke of wealth and luxury that few could ever realise, whilst her air and mannerisms spoke of power. She was quite different to the woman who used to occupy the house. Narcissa had definitely been a beauty; cool and aloof. She had been pure ice, her stance firmly behind her husband at all times; the perfect pureblood wife. Miss Potter, however, was in possession of quite a different persona.

She had not the iciness of Narcissa, nor the petulance of Draco; she was something altogether different. It was indisputable that she was a beauty, however more fiery than icy. Even he had to admit that she was beautiful; noticing how quickly she could snap from a warm, friendly smile to a regal gaze. There was another large contrast between Miss Potter and Narcissa; whilst the latter kept her mouth shut when it came to politics, he could see that some of Lucius had definitely rubbed off on the former. She seemed to have become quite adept at behind the scenes scheming but was also unafraid to clash with high ranking officials, her favourite appearing to be Cornelius Fudge himself.

She turned and faced her former Professor. He was wearing his usual heavy black robes and looked thoroughly wet through.

"You foolish, foolish girl." He said by way of greeting.

"Nice to see you too Professor." She replied icily. He wasn't sure if he was going to changer his mind about her not having the iciness of Narcissa. The look she gave him could have quelled fire.

"What did you think you were doing?" he spat angrily, advancing across the room towards her. "Did you even listen to me? I should have known you were too arrogant to listen, just like your father."

"Your warning came two years too late!" she shouted back, her eyes burning with anger. "He'd had me long before you deigned to give me any words of warning." She turned back to look out over the gardens.

"Two years?" Snape said in quiet astonishment.

"Didn't the others tell you?" she did not look at him as she spoke. "He caught me snooping around here nearly two years ago and decided that he would prefer to use me to his own ends rather than those of his Master. I hadn't even been eighteen for a month." She remembered what he had said to her at the ball. "Oh, and it didn't seem like he thought he was betraying his wife at all."

"Why in Merlin's name did you not tell me this?" his voice regained its angry tone.

"I'm sorry, but I didn't consider you someone to go to in times of crisis." She retorted sarcastically, her tongue quite as sharp as that of her Professor. "You were never particularly helpful."

"That's not the point. You were still stupid not to tell anyone."

"I apologise for being terrified of what he would do to me if he found out I had told anyone." She responded dryly. "Besides, what do you care? You've never shown any regard from mine or Harry's lives before."

"Because I did not see the need to coddle a pair of over-hyped, spoiled children." He argued. "That, of course, does not mean that I did not care for your welfare. You were never irreparably damaged under my watch."

"I'm sure Neville Longbottom will attest to the permanent mental scars you have inflicted upon him." She shot back with a vicious smirk.

"I also do not see it necessary to lie about the abilities of every dunderhead I am forced to teach."

"Neville is a hero." She retorted, knowing how brave Neville had been.

"That's as maybe, but he is still a dunderhead." Snape said in a disinterested manner. "You, on the other hand, may be the biggest dunderhead I have ever taught, Neville Longbottom included."

"Well excuse me for not thinking straight when I am absolutely terrified."

"Oh, it is not that to which I elude." He said with a sneer. "If I have heard rightly, your brother thinks that you believe Lucius to truly care about you." Kathryn opened her mouth to speak but he didn't even allow her to get the words out. "Silence! You are truly a foolish girl if you think that Lucius Malfoy, the epitome of everything that the old Pureblood families stand for, cares for anyone but himself." Snape was speaking to her as if she were a very small, incredibly dense child.

"How can you possibly know what he is like?" she asked quickly, and then immediately wished she hadn't.

"I have been his closest friend for over twenty years." Snape told her silkily, sweeping up to stand directly in front of her. "Do not assume me ignorant of whom we speak. I have known him since my days in school and, let me tell you, I know things that would make your hair stand on end."

"Go ahead. Shock me." She baited him and he rose accordingly.

"We shared many things. When we conducted raids, I was at his right hand." Kathryn was growing increasingly uncomfortable with his proximity to her, trying to move away but only finding herself backing into the wall.

"I had second turn once he was finished with his current plaything." Kathryn didn't dare move as she felt a hand move to her waist and the other move in her hair.

"Why should you be any different?" the hand that was on her waist moved upwards, skimming across her breast and collarbone before stroking her neck. She could not move; paralysed by shock and fear. She shuddered as the pad of a callused thumb stroked her skin, causing him to smirk.

"I see that you are spoiled; too used to Lucius for your own good." She tried to remain calm as she felt his thin lips replace his thumb, slowly drawing the wand from where it was concealed within his cane.

"Yet somehow I doubt you could lift a finger to harm the daughter of Lily Potter, not when she so resembles the woman you loved." She held his black gaze with her eyes and, in the one moment he faltered, she acted. She did not speak the incantation and, before he could even react, Snape found himself being blasted across the room where he collided, face first, with a particularly large and heavy cabinet.

"How dare you!" she fumed, not lowering his wand.

"He does not care for you." Snape continued despite his bloody nose. "He would have done something to show such feelings."

"You'll have to check your sources, or did they not tell you?" she retorted scathingly. "He made me the sole guardian of the Manor and his estate should he ever be indisposed. Besides, you cared for my mother and never showed any sign of it, not for over twenty years. You are not one to talk to me of how to tell that someone cares."

"That is not enough to prove that he cares." Snape spat, wiping the blood on his chin with his sleeve. "Merely a selfish act of self preservation."

"How about these?" she lifted the weighty set of diamonds about her neck. "I didn't think that priceless family heirlooms were the standard gift fayre for someone who is, as you so deftly put it, his plaything." She pasted a simpering smile onto her face. "Now, tell me why you are here before I hex you into next week." She still did not lower his wand.

"I came to use the library for some research." Snape admitted grumpily, annoyed that she dared turn a wand on him.

"Then use it and get out." She growled, stalking from the room in a swirl of black skirts. Snape waited for a few minutes, gingerly fingering his nose and the cut above his eye, before daring to leave the room and head for the library.

Once the doors to the master suite were securely locked behind her, Kathryn proceeded to pull every single item of clothing off; leaving a trail leading straight into the gigantic bathroom. She stood beneath the scalding water until her skin was a fiery red from the intense heat, trying to scald away every trace of him on her skin. She cursed his name at the top of her breath as the water beat against her skin, using words that Mrs Weasley should never hear her speak. She thumped the soft pillows that were piled against the headboard, muffling her angry screams within them until she could rant and rage no more.

The storm had passed whilst all this had taken place, and the late evening sun sparkled off the water that coated the window panes. It was just going on eight o'clock and yet it was still hot; the air only now beginning to cool slowly down. Stepping out onto the balcony, she inhaled that relaxing scent of summer evenings and the refreshing aroma that you always got just after rain. Wearing only her pyjamas and a light dressing gown, she perched cross legged on the balustrade and looked out over the grounds. All the flowers were in bloom beneath her and, every so often, she caught a scent of the blooms on her air.

Unbeknownst to her, someone else could see her moments of tranquillity. Looking down from the windows of the library on the floor above, Snape had just happened to notice the figure on the balcony appear and had decided to see what she did. As far as he knew, not even her friends had seen her once she dropped the exterior she had been forced to adopt since June. He watched her as she sat on the balcony and, for one heart-stopping moment, he actually entertained the belief that she was going to jump. He relaxed however, as she just sat there.

Deciding that she wanted more than just to look at the grounds, Kathryn pulled out her wand and, with a few flicks, had conjured as small rope that fell all the way down to the grass below. Snape watched, intrigued, as she levered herself over the edge of the balcony and slid down the fine, silvery rope she had conjured. Her light blue dressing gown fanned out around her as she descended towards the ground; landing gracefully on the lush green carpet.

Kathryn couldn't believe it, but she actually giggled as her feet hit the moist grass. That had to be the first time she had giggled in months. She cracked a smile as she ran lightly across the lawns and through the flower gardens; heading towards the woods at the edge of the grounds. It felt unbelievably refreshing to be out of the house and away from all those who would judge her. She whimsically toyed with a bloom plucked from one of the plants, tucking it behind her ear as she broke into a spin across the lawns.

Snape, up in the library; found this a very interesting scene to behold. It seemed that just stepping out of the house relieved the tension that was involved with her day to day life. He had heard her brother complaining about the attention that they were getting; the celebrated conquerors of the dreaded Lord Voldemort, and Kathryn had it lucky as she did not have to cope with the media hype. What Potter did not seem to understand was that his sister, hero though she undoubtedly was, she had to cope with the media hype and hatred. Whilst they fawned over her brother and friends, they stung her with vicious editorials and letters. She was the fallen hero; forgotten for what she really did and remembered for the one mistake that she made. From what he had garnered from other Order members and his visits to Lucius in Azkaban, she had come here with the intention of helping and had ended up stuck in something that had escalated further than she could ever have imagined.

Yet, when she thought no one was looking, she dropped the thick shield she had been forced to adopt and the true person seemed to shine through. Lucius had, over the course of their meetings, given him titbits of information as to what had happened, but never enough for him to get the whole picture. For a man so concerned with himself, it was odd to have him considering someone else's welfare over his own. Severus knew nothing of his intentions yet, although he suspected that he soon would, but Malfoy had spoken of some of his thoughts on the girl. He had spoken of her intelligence, her strength and, of course, her beauty. Snape had known that she possessed all three of these, but he hadn't cared enough to notice when she had been a student. Now, however, he couldn't fail to see what his friend saw.

Snape was transfixed as she ran, nymph like, across the sprawling lawns. Her hair and dressing gown flew out behind her, her feet barely touching the ground; giving the impression that she was floating rather than running. She came to a halt before the woods and she waited. Down in the grounds, Kathryn had never felt so relaxed for weeks. She did not have anyone scrutinising her or questioning her loyalty. She waited at the edge of the trees, crumbling a few sugar lumps in her hand, and scouring the gaps in the trees.

Snape wondered what she was doing, standing still as though she had just been petrified. Then, all of a sudden, he saw something very white appear from between the trees and walk up to her. Although he knew that he shouldn't be looking, Snape could not tear his eyes away. He had no particular interest in animals, considering them only when he used them in potions, but he knew that he was witnessing something spectacular. He knew that unicorns were very skittish creatures that did not dare venture close to humans. No one had ever tamed one before, and yet, here was a twenty year-old girl running her hands through its luminous mane as if it was a perfectly normal thing to do. He continued to stare as she carefully swung herself onto the unicorn's back and set of at an alarming pace about the meadows behind the house. Snape made sure to freeze that image in his mind, immediately rummaging about in the pockets of his robes for a phial in which to store the thought.

By the time he had the silvery memory glimmering within the phial, the unicorn had gone and she was walking back to the house. The sun had disappeared completely, and she rubbed her arms against the evening chill that permeated the air. She ignored the thin rope she had conjured earlier and entered through the doors that led out onto the veranda. She walked silently through the house, being careful not to wake the sleeping portraits, and climbed the stairs back to bed. What she most certainly did not want to meet was the greasy Hogwarts Potions Master.

"What are you still doing here?" she asked venomously, defiantly meeting his gaze. "I believe I told you to do your research and get out."

"I cannot find the book I need. I was coming to enquire as to whether I can stay the night and recommence my search in the morning."

"Do as you please." She swept past him and towards the elaborately carved doors that led to her rooms. "There should be a guest room ready upstairs." She told him. "But, if you'd rather be in something closer to your natural habitat; I know somewhere I could keep you down in the cellars." She gave him a cruel smile before disappearing inside and firmly turning the key in the lock. She did not trust mere locks however, and did not let her head rest on the pillow before she had placed several protective charms on the door. Even then she did not sleep soundly; tossing and turning the whole night, her wand lying mere inches away from her grasp on the mattress.

Snape left promptly at eleven the next morning without a word. She had remained in her room all morning; he had seen her eat her breakfast on the balcony. It was if she was waiting for him to leave. He took a little sadistic pleasure in making her wait but then remembered that the rest of the Order would probably think she had killed him if he didn't come back soon. He saw her face at the window as he walked up the drive; recognising it now as the face he had seen on his previous visit to the manor in the spring. He now knew what he had interrupted, but he also wondered as to her sudden return. She was supposed to have been staying away for several days, so what had his visit prompted to make her leave in such a rush? He did not bother himself with this line of thought as he apparated back to Grimmauld Place, instead telling them what he had discovered.


	55. Chapter 55

A/N - Resons behind actions...

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"What happened to you?" Harry asked as he came through the door, as small grimace on his face. Chancing a glance in the mirror, Snape saw a swollen, purple eye and a red gash marring his forehead. He remembered that he had not bothered to fix his injuries after his encounter with Miss Potter the previous evening.

"Your sister did not take my visit very well." Snape offered by means of a response.

"If truth be told," Hermione Granger's voice came from behind him, "I'm surprised you came back in one piece."

"And I'm surprised you came back at all." Ron followed Hermione in. "I knew it was too much to hope." he sighed, sitting down next to Harry.

"As I was saying," Snape continued tersely, "your sister did not take my visit well. Are you satisfied?" Sirius and Lupin came in the room and joined the trio at the table.

"Glad to see she's still on form then, Snivellus." Sirius sneered as he caught sight of Snape's eye. "I still can't believe you let him do this." He said, turning to Harry.

"We had to know, Sirius." Lupin told his friend in a sombre voice.

"Then why not ask her?" Sirius said as if it was the most obvious thing to do, his temper rising slightly. "That would have saved her the mental scarring of having your ex-Professor, the greasy bat of the dungeons, coming on to her."

"Do you think for one moment, Black, that she would have told you anything had you asked her outright?" Snape spat, his dislike for Sirius plain on his face. "She concealed this from Harry, from you, from her friends, from her teachers and from Dumbledore. She is very capable of lying and is a more skilled Occlumens then we give her credit. How else do you think she could hide a secret like that when the most accomplished Legilimens is your Headmaster?" he sneered.

"She hid it because she was afraid." Sirius growled, his anger threatening to boil over.

"I hate to have to join the dots for you, Black, but Lucius Malfoy was doing more than looking at her when she managed to find out that little part of the Dark Lord's plan." His thin lips curved into a cruel smile, before transforming into a grimace as Sirius lunged across the table at him. He was sure he would have had a second black eye and even more substantial damage had Harry and Lupin not been holding him back.

"Just tell us what happened." Lupin said calmly.

"I went to Malfoy Manor last night, like you asked, on the pretence of doing some research. I provoked her, as you asked, to see where her loyalties lie." He tried to put what he had done as delicately as possible. "As a result, I ended up becoming very intimate with a very large, very solid dresser."

"So what did you find out then?" Harry asked. "In all probability, she could have reacted like that with anyone who repulses her, it doesn't mean anything."

"I assure you, it does." Snape replied ominously. "She does believe that he cares for her and, at this point, I'm not inclined to argue."

"He's Lucius Malfoy!" Hermione exclaimed. "He doesn't care about anyone but himself!"

"Things are not always as they seem, Miss Granger. I thought you of all people would have realised that long ago." He told her in a curt voice; very much the Professor they all loathed but could not help respect.

"What makes you think different then?" Sirius asked incredulously. "Do enlighten us Snivellus." He drawled.

"If you paid attention, you will have noticed that she has acquired certain things that only the richest can afford. Namely jewellery."

"She could have bought those herself; she's richer than you think you know." Harry countered.

"I wager she probably could, but I would be disposed to say that they came from a far richer pocket."

"Fine, so what makes them so special then?" Harry demanded; his arms folded.

"The one she was wearing last night." Snape explained. "I've seen it before. Narcissa had it very early in her marriage; a gift on her twentieth birthday, just after her marriage in fact."

"What's your point?" Sirius asked, obviously exasperated at having to listen to Snape.

"The necklace is a family heirloom, passed down to the Malfoy women on their twentieth birthday." Snape explained. "He must have sent it to her."

"But she didn't get any unexpected parcels." Hermione said logically.

"Do you think she would have opened it in front of you?" Snape asked, raising an eyebrow at Hermione.

"But she isn't even a Malfoy!" Ron pointed out. "What's the point of passing something like that on if it isn't to someone in your own family?"

"Can't you see Weasley? He's marking her as a Malfoy, as something that belongs to him. Although I do think that he has too much respect for her to even consider her as a possession."

"How do you know all this from just seeing how she reacted to your advances?" Lupin asked curiously, peering at Snape with his pale blue eyes.

"I have visited Lucius in Azkaban twice since he was arrested." Snape admitted. "I believe that he trusts no one else."

"And what has he told you?" Harry asked, very interested.

"He has spoken of your sister." Snape said, being careful not to give away too much. "He said that she is a beautiful, intelligent and remarkable young woman."

"Oh please," Hermione snorted, "that's all for show."

"You would think so," Snape agreed, "but I have seen different."

"Explain."

"Did you know she's tamed a unicorn?" Snape asked nonchalantly, pretending to be disinterested.

"Impossible, no one has ever tamed them." Ron retorted in disbelief. "Hagrid taught us all about them; they won't even go near humans."

"I saw it Mr Weasley, and to prove it, I can show you this." He held out the bottle with the silvery thought glistening inside of it. "You do have a Pensieve in this house, I presume." Sirius nodded and took them upstairs to the dusty cabinet where he kept his family's Pensieve. Snape poured the contents into the bowl and, with a few prods of his wand, the surface cleared and they looked into the misty depths. Sure enough, galloping beneath them was Kathryn perched on the back of a gleaming white unicorn.

"How?" Hermione mouthed as they gaped at the memory they watched.

"I don't believe anyone will be able to answer that." Lupin said quietly as they stowed the pensieve away.

"My point is," Snape went on, "you should not underestimate her. If she has the determination to tame a unicorn, then she has the determination to see this through to the very end."

"We will bear that in mind, Severus, thank you." Lupin nodded.

"If you'll excuse me, I have things to do." Snape swept his cloak about him and, with a curt nod, disapparated.

He reappeared miles away, on the north coast of Scotland; looking out at a dark, dismal island surrounded by ferocious seas. He tugged his cloak tighter about his body for, even though it was the height of summer, the warmth and sunlight never toughed this place. It was forever cold, bleak and lifeless. He shuddered as he caught sight of one of the eerie floating guards that patrolled the fortress island. It was inaccessible by Portkey, apparition or Floo and the only way across the perilous strait was in a rickety Muggle boat. He boarded and tried his best to make himself comfortable on what promised to be an uncomfortable ride. The ageing hull stank of seaweed and there was not a pane of glass intact; causing the wind to whip painfully through at every opportunity.

The entire island was rocky and barren. Nothing could survive in such hopeless conditions; even the few wizard staff operated very short shifts so as not to be exposed to the dismal place longer than they could cope. Trying desperately to stay warm, Snape announced himself to the wizard at the entrance and was swiftly led into a small, windowless, sparsely furnished room. He waited, sitting uncomfortably in the rickety wooden chair that was provided, until he heard voices outside the room.

The man he had come to see entered, although Snape would have confessed that he looked quite different to normal. His perfect mane of blond hair was matted in places and held loosely back with what looked like a shoelace. He was dressed in plain black robes, the deal Miss Potter had made with the ministry obviously affording him slightly more substantial robes than the other prisoners, and a thin beard was beginning to appear. He looked thinner that normal and his demeanour, while still arrogant and elitist, seemed weaker. His eyes, cold and grey as they had always been, seemed to be the only part of him left unchanged.

"Severus, you're looking well." He greeted Snape with a shake of his hand.

"I wish I could say the same for you, Lucius." Snape replied with a wry smile. "But you are still sane, which has to be a bonus."

"Yes, I suppose my sanity is something worth having. Although a good nights sleep in a comfortable bed would not go amiss." He took the seat opposite Snape. "So, I must confess I have waited longer for your return than I thought I would. Did you finally pluck up the nerve to do as I asked?"

"It was not a question of having the nerve," he said through gritted teeth, "it was merely waiting for the opportune moment."

"The opportune moment took two weeks to arrive?"

"Yes. Potter asked me to do the exact same thing."

"Potter asked you to do that?" Lucius asked interestedly.

"They're afraid of where her loyalties lie."

"And where exactly is that, old friend?"

"I will show you." Snape withdrew his wand and, in seconds, had invaded Lucius' mind. He noted how, despite weakened by the Dementors, he worked hard to keep his mental walls up against invasion. Snape did not bother trying to break them down, not caring for what was behind, and simply showed him what had happened the previous day. Lucius' mouth curved into a smile as he watched her lash out at Snape and he swelled with pride as she refuted his claims. Once the vision was over, Snape withdrew from his mind and waited for him to speak.

"I do hope that cabinet isn't too damaged." He said with a smirk. "Although I didn't expect you to come back alive."

"I think I am lucky that she has agreed to stay in that house or I suspect I would've had to go into hiding." Snape admitted. "Have you seen Friday's copy of the Prophet?" Snape asked, steering the conversation elsewhere.

"Ah yes," Lucius smirked again, "her little trip to Gringotts."

"You see what she's doing of course?"

"Of course."

"She's trying to put pressure on Fudge to give a trial date." Snape almost whispered. "I do believe that she's grown tired of waiting."

"She appeared in public dressed in the finest clothes, travelling in my car and carrying my cane." Lucius reeled off. "The wizarding public doesn't want her to have such privilege when they believed she betrayed them. The public outcry will be huge, the vicious editorials will resume and Fudge will be forced to announce a date before he is forced out of office again."

"A very cunning scheme for a Gryffindor." Snape was definitely impressed by her shrewd tactics. "There must be a drop or two of Slytherin blood in there somewhere."

"You forget who she learned from."

"True, although, you're not doing too well at the moment." Snape commented dryly.

"At least I don't have to suffer Fudge badgering me constantly." Lucius retorted.

"Touché." There was a small knock on the door, indicating that Snape's time was up.

"One more thing." Lucius said as Snape stood.

"Yes?"

"You watched over Draco whilst he was at school, now watch over her." Lucius asked.

"I don't think she would like to be anywhere near me and I could give you a list of curses as long as my arm that she will use the next time she sees me." Snape gingerly touched his swollen eye. "And I do not wish to look like this all the time."

"I'm not asking you to stand vigil at the manor gates." Lucius said tersely. "I merely want you to make sure that she is alright, even if it is through her brother. Please."

"Very well." Snape gave in. "But I blame you if I end up in St Mungo's." He was about to leave, but he decided to ask the blond man one more thing.

"If you speak with her, apologise for me. My actions and words were deplorable." He shook hands with Lucius once more before sweeping out of the room and heading for the ramshackle boat that was bashing off the rocks.


	56. Chapter 56

A/N - The return to courtroom ten...please read and review, I appreciate all comments!! Enjoy.

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Lucius was indeed right. Bowing to immense public insistence, Fudge announced the date for the highly anticipated trial of Lucius Malfoy. The date was set for the twenty second of August and it was becoming the most talked about things in the Leaky Cauldron in Diagon Alley and the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade. Word was going round that no one but those involved in the trial would be allowed into the courtroom and many were disappointed that they would not have the chance to hear the, presumably, sordid details of what really went on between Lucius Malfoy and Kathryn Potter.

She had not seen Harry, or anyone for that matter, since their venture through the secret passage and the incident with Snape. She conducted her affairs by owl and did not answer the little post she received. To her great relief, no Ministry officials came barging in demanding to search the grounds; Harry obviously having kept his silence over what they had discovered. Her plan to force Fudge into setting the trial date had worked perfectly, but she found herself growing increasingly nervous as the date approached. She stood before her wardrobe for hours, trying to pick out a suitable outfit that did not look too showy, but would still turn heads. She finally settled on something, and went to sleep on the night of the twenty-first no less nervous than she had been before.

She did not fall into an easy sleep; tossing and turning all night and waking in the early hours of the morning feeling as if a swarm of locusts were loose in her stomach. She lay watching the sun slowly creep over the horizon through a gap in the curtains until she could stand the relentless ticking of the clock no longer. It was as if it was counting down to the moment she had anticipated ever since the first day she had started loving him. She had to stand up and be judged, but Fudge didn't realise that she wouldn't go down without a fight.

She tossed back the deep emerald bedspread and pulled the heavy drapes fully open so the morning sun blazed into the room, blinding her momentarily. Pulling off her pyjamas, she climbed into the steaming shower; vigorously shampooing her hair and letting the hot water ease the tension in her body. It was no secret that Fudge was out to sully her name and she would have to fight tooth and nail to hold onto her dignity and reputation, and she might as well look indomitable while doing so. She sat for a while on the bed, allowing her hair to dry into its natural waves before dressing in the outfit she had spent hours choosing.

She had decided on a plain black dress; just about knee length with the skirt flaring out at the bottom slightly, clingy, nipped in at the waist with short sleeves. It was fairly simple, but created the crisp, sophisticated image she wanted to cultivate. She paired this with a pair of plain black heels and a black clutch. The necklace he had sent for her birthday was securely fastened about her neck whilst her hair was pinned loosely at the nape. She felt like she used to on the morning of Quidditch matches as she paced the drawing room after breakfast. Not that she had managed to eat much; a few bites of toast and a cup of tea were the most she could manage before she began to pace. It was only quarter to nine, but she couldn't stand the wait any longer considering that he was probably already locked away in the Ministry awaiting the start of his trial. Sending for the car, she checked she had everything she needed before sweeping out of the room and towards the front doors.

She had decided to forgo a cloak as it was a pleasantly hot summer day, a great contrast to how she felt inside. The car rolled slowly up as she walked down the steps and the door sprang open as soon as it pulled to a halt. She settled herself into the cool interior, behind the darkened windows, and the car moved off towards the gates. Paying little attention to their speed or the Muggle road signs, she soon found herself in a car negotiating the heavy traffic around London city centre. It was ten o'clock by the time they reached the little alleyway that contained the public entrance to the Ministry building.

As soon as she stepped into the small space, dialled the number and picked up the apparently broken receiver, a cool voice sounded out of nowhere.

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic." The female voice told her. "Please state your name and business."

"Kathryn Potter." She obliged. "Here to attend the trial of Lucius Malfoy."

"Thank you. Please report to the security desk in the Atrium upon arrival." A small sliver badge appeared where the coins usually would and the phone box slowly began to sink beneath the surface. A small light flickered on as she was plunged into darkness, flickering off moments later as the light from the Atrium began to appear. She stepped out of the phone box at the far side of the vast atrium and tried to ignore the many stares and gossiping bureaucrats as she made her way towards the security desk. She waited patiently as the young man at the desk weighed her wand.

"Your wand." He said, not meeting her eyes as he thrust her wand back into her hand. "And we would ask that you wear your visitor's badge at all times." His tone was polite but his eyes betrayed his true feelings as she looked down at the silver pin in her hand. Although she knew she shouldn't, she decided to treat him with the same contempt he had shown her.

"I think you know who I am." She told him coldly, letting the badge slip from her fingers and fall to his desk with a clunk before stalking off in the direction of the elevators. She was not surprised as no one stepped into the same lift as she, even though it was completely empty. Her face remaining impassive, she pushed the button for the ninth level and stared resolutely back at them as the shining grille slid shut and the elevator clattered downwards. It was nearly an hour before the trial began, but she did not care that she would have to wait; preferring to arrive before everyone else so as to avoid the scathing remarks and glares that she had almost grown accustomed to.

Of course, none of the general wizarding populace would be there for the first few days of the trial. Once Fudge had informed her of the date and that she would be expected to testify before the Wizengamot, she had written back expressly demanding the trial be sealed as she did not want to have hundreds of nosy eyes boring into her as she did so. Fudge had, after several caustic letters threatening to go straight to the press, agreed to this. According to what she had gleaned from his letters, she was his star witness, whom he believed, could put Lucius Malfoy in Azkaban for life whilst also irreparably damaging her good name forever.

Of course, that was only if Fudge got to hear what he wanted to hear. So far, he knew nothing other than the conclusions his fanatical little mind had jumped to. Kathryn smirked at the thought of how he would react when he heard the truth, slipping into the door of the huge Courtroom Ten. The giant chamber was very dark, only a handful of the torches lit in the windowless place. Kathryn picked her way carefully up the steep staircase to the very top viewing ledge; a place she was certain no one would go for it was very dark and quite chilly. Muttering an incantation, she cast a warming spell to stave off the cold and transfigured one of the battered, dusty wooden seats into a much more comfortable armchair. Smiling to herself, she sat back and waited in the shadows until she heard a clock, somewhere in the distance, chime a quarter to eleven.

With a creak, the large, heavy oak doors that were the entrance to Courtroom Ten swung open and people began to file in. Several took seats on the viewing galleries, whilst others took seats in the raised bench before the seats where the Wizengamot sat. One of them she recognised as Percy Weasley, and the other as Dolores Umbridge. She looked positively beaming, probably happy at the prospect of being able to put one of the Potters behind bars if she had any say in matters. The others that had filed into the public seating she also knew. There was the tall, thin frame of Professor McGonagall and the short form of Professor Flitwick. Naturally, many of her former Professors would be there, along with her brother, friends and the rest of the Order of the Phoenix. She gripped the arms of the seat very hard as she saw the bat-like, hook nosed figure of Professor Snape sit down next to McGonagall.

As eleven o'clock approached, the courtroom became even busier as more secretaries and minor officials bustled in carrying stacks of parchment, spare quills and inkwells. Dumbledore arrived with Alastor Moody and took a seat in the front row with McGonagall and Snape. Then came her brother, Ron and Hermione. They were closely followed by Sirius, Ginny, Lupin, Tonks and the rest of the Weasley family. None of them looked happy, not that they had any reason to, and she shrank further back into the shadows as their eyes roamed the courtroom in search of her.

The entire Auror office was in attendance; she spotted Rufus Scrimgeour's lion-like mane of hair below her. There were also several members of the DA attending; Ernie Macmillan, Hannah Abbot, Justin Flinch Fletchley. She also spotted Neville, Luna and Neville's grandmother sitting near Harry. She caught sight of several people who, in her eyes, were most unwelcome. In one of the middle rows sat Pansy Parkinson and Theodore Nott. Pansy looked like she was fawning over Nott like he was Draco but, thinking of it, now that Draco was gone; she needed someone else to provide for her.

Finally, as the clock in the distance struck eleven, the doors behind the Wizengamot benches opened and the assembled people stood as they entered in their ceremonial purple robes with the silver W embroidered on the breast. She remained resolutely in her seat.

"Bring in the accused." Fudge ordered as soon as everyone was sat down again. Kathryn's heart lurched as the great oak doors were flung open and she moved right up to the edge of the balustrade and looked down as several Aurors entered the room. They stood with their wands at the ready as Lucius Malfoy was escorted into the courtroom with an Auror at either side.

She took the time to study him as they walked towards the ominous wooden chair with the chains that faced the Wizengamot. He still had his smart black suit on and he looked as if he had tried to smarten himself up. Despite this, however, she could see the creases in his suit from where it had been folded and the tangles in his usually flawless mane. He looked even thinner than he had been when she had last seen him and she felt a flare of anger against Fudge rise up inside of her. She could see how he tried to put up a cool front, but he still looked weak in the flickering torchlight. She had to stifle a gasp as they pushed him roughly into the chair and the chains that hung limp suddenly glowed gold and bound him tightly.

Kathryn watched as his grey eyes searched the courtroom for her. She did not shrink back, but continued to look down on him. He spotted her quickly and, despite her being expressionless and cold, he could see the pain of what she had to do etched into her eyes. The sight of her, however, also gave him a strengthening, comforting feeling that seemed to ease the pain the Dementors had caused.

"Please state your name for the record." Fudge ordered him in a curt tone.

"Lucius Malfoy." Percy Weasley began scribbling.

"Lucius Malfoy." Fudge began. "You have been brought here on the charge of being a Death Eater and various other crimes. How do you plead?" Kathryn thought it foolish of him to ask that question, knowing that Malfoy would never give in.

"Not guilty." He told Fudge clearly, looking right at him.

"Your answer in duly noted." Percy Weasley feverishly did said noting. "Now, let us proceed." He shuffled his papers in front of him, the noise seeming to fill the entire room as everyone else waited in silence.

"You were arrested on the morning of the twenty fourth of June this year after being found in a rather compromising position with one of the members of the Order of the Phoenix, namely, Miss Kathryn Potter. Before we consider the charges levelled against you for your crimes as a Death Eater, we wish to know what happened between the two of you in order to determine whether there was any wrongdoing on her part." There was much muttering in the courtroom at the mention of Kathryn's name, she could see Pansy whispering furiously to Nott; probably calling her many foul names that she didn't like to think of.

"After much discussion and compromise," and arguments, Kathryn thought as Fudge went on, "Miss Potter has agreed to give testimony as to what happened. Today, she has consented to show us what happened using a Pensieve." As Fudge spoke, the stones of the floor between where Lucius sat and the Wizengamot benches began to rearrange themselves into the shape of a giant Pensieve that was visible to the entire courtroom. Kathryn put the tip of her wand to her temple and slowly drew out the string of memories which, unlike normal thoughts, glowed a bright red.

"She does not, however," Fudge's eyes scanned the courtroom, "appear to be here." It appeared that no one but Lucius had noticed her presence.

"I'm here Fudge." Her voice resonated around the walls, making everyone search for where she was.

"Well, if you would be so kind." He motioned towards the Pensieve as Kathryn made her way slowly down the steps. She pointedly ignored everyone around her as she walked, keeping her eyes fixed on the man in the chair. She could hear the hushed whispers and insults, but she didn't really care.

Looking at her as she walked, Lucius could read the apologetic look in her eyes. He had known that she would never lie about what had transpired and, considering the abuse she had borne since their discovery, she deserved the chance to tell the truth. He had seen the papers; most of what they printed had been wholly fabricated or were just accusations from the Minister. He hoped that she knew that he didn't care what she did, no matter how much he did not want to see what he had done to her. She dropped the glowing memory into the Pensieve where it floated amongst the swirling grey mist. Without another word, she turned on her heel and headed for the door. The entire courtroom stared at her as she strode towards the exit, not breaking stride and not looking anywhere but ahead. The noise of her heels echoed around the chamber as she walked the length of the giant room.

Lucius was impressed as she walked past him; as well as looking beautiful, she was perfectly imposing. Everything from her eyes down to the way she walked seemed to convey the message that anyone who crossed her would find themselves on the wrong end of a nasty hex. No one noticed that, as she walked past, her free hand brushed against his ever so slightly. He strained against the bonds tying him down as she approached the door and, by a fraction, he managed to turn and watch her. She paused for a moment in the doorway and turned slightly to look back at him as the doors were closed. She only caught his eye for a moment and, in that briefest of seconds, she gave him a quick smile before disappearing from view.


	57. Chapter 57

A/N - I got the inspiration for this method of recounting the story from Dumbledore's use of the pensieve in Half Blood Prince. Read, review and enjoy!!

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The Wizengamot focused its attention back on the Pensieve before them, as did everyone else in the chamber. With a wave of a wand, the torches were extinguished and one of the secretaries stepped up to the rim of the Pensieve. He prodded the red memory with his wand and, with a muttered incantation, it began to grow and a silvery image of Kathryn rose up from the surface.

Harry watched in amazement as an image of his sister, two years younger, rose out of the silvery pool. It was almost like watching a film in a Muggle cinema, not that the Dursleys had ever taken him to one, except that it was all three dimensional. He recognised where she was from what she had told them; she was standing in the grounds of Malfoy Manor. The entire courtroom watched as she snuck up to the house and climbed the walls to see who was there. They saw her terror when Malfoy spotted her and watched her try and make her escape, only to run straight into him. only Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Sirius, Dumbledore and the Weasleys knew what was coming next and, despite not wanting to see this in the slightest, Harry found that he could not tear his eyes away from the scenes playing out before him.

The room was silent as they watched Malfoy restrain her, mockingly destroy the maps she had hidden and confiscate her wand. He heard Hermione quietly gasp in horror as, after a brief absence, he returned and began to taunt her with a huge, shining blade; reminding her of his area of expertise. They watched as it sliced easily through the lace of her underwear, as it teased at her flesh but never actually drew blood. Harry could see McGonagall wringing her hands together whilst Snape just sat stoically watching as Malfoy threatened her.

"But, then again," they heard Malfoy say, "why would I give away something so fine that has just walked into my grasp?"

Harry wasn't sure if he could stand watching the memory playing out before him, his sister's screams as Malfoy raped her almost too much to bear.

The gruesome details of what he did to her, however, did not stop there. The memory jumped forwards to another night. She was still in the same room, curled up in the bed sheets looking very afraid. They watched as she instinctively turned as the door slowly opened. The absolute terror in her eyes was evident as she caught sight of the robed, hooded and masked figure of a death eater that stepped into the room. She did not flinch as the figure ran a hand through her hair and across her face, only pulling the sheets tighter about her and moving slowly away. Once his mask and robes were lying on a chair, Malfoy advanced on her again; only to have her scrabble away and kick out at him, catching him sharply in the stomach.

Harry felt Ginny gripping his hand as anger flared in Malfoy's eyes and he grabbed his sister's hair and forced her face down onto the mattress. From out of nowhere, ties bound her hands and feet to the bed frame and they watched her shiver as Malfoy pulled the sheets down to her waist. Indeed, what happened next incensed Harry so much that it took every ounce of willpower not to lunge forwards and tear Malfoy limb from limb.

Looking over at Sirius, it seemed that he was having exactly the same thoughts and struggling against the very same feelings. Before them, they saw Kathryn muffling her screams in one of the pillows as she learned the price of refusal. Large gashes appeared in her back as the metal tip of the whip connected with her skin and, seeming not content with what he was doing already; Malfoy moved the pillows away from her so he could hear her scream. Her cries echoed through the chamber, chilling everyone to the core. Once he was done and the sheet beneath her was soaked with blood, Malfoy did not leave her alone. Instead he used her as if nothing had happened and he wasn't causing her any additional pain as he pushed her roughly into the mattress, tossing her aside like a rag doll, writhing in agony once he'd had his fun.

Down in the chair, Lucius was watching with a grave expression. He felt deeply ashamed for what he had done to her two tears ago and was astonished that she could even stand the sight of him after all of it. Judging by the faces of the people looking down on him, their opinion of what went on had drastically changed. Indeed, Fudge had gone very pale and was nervously looking at Harry; obviously regretting not listening to him in the first place.

In the memory, time now skipped quickly forwards; showing when he cornered her on the hill outside Hogsmeade, the Christmas ball and their trip to Dubai. Harry took note of the way he treated her as a possession; particularly at the Christmas ball where they saw him doing up her dress so forcefully it made her gasp in pain. Lucius noted, however, that she had also shown occasions when he had been kind to her; helping her up the stairs and giving her jewels. Although, in the eyes of Fudge, this was only seen as a means of buying her silence.

The memory jumped again to Valentine's Day, their victory in the Quidditch cup and what she did when she sneaked off. Harry's stomach turned at the sight of what she had done to keep them safe. Then, they were watching as he undid the curse cast on her by his son. Harry, and the rest of the courtroom, was shocked to see the way her held her when he was alone with her in the Great Hall. There was none of the cruelty they had previously seen as he cradled her in his arms. Lucius was impressed by what she had done. The memories they were seeing showed what happened, but they also showed how their attitudes were slowly changing.

They next saw her trip to Paris and, after that, her week long stay at Malfoy Manor when she was supposed to be spending a week at Queerditch Marsh. Sirius' stomach churned as he watched Malfoy doing unspeakable things to his Goddaughter on the sofa in his study that they had sat her down on after she had been found. Ron, who was holding tightly onto Hermione's hand, was thanking his lucky stars that the twisted man before them had never got his hands on Hermione.

Hermione had flourished into a beautiful young woman with a fierce intellect, but Ron doubted that she had the strength to go through what Kathryn had. His mind snapped back to what was happening in the memory as they saw Kathryn do something they had never seen her do. They all watched with bated breath as she crawled slowly up the bed and, for the first time, kissed him. True, they had seen her kiss him many times before this, but for some reason this was different. Firstly, she had sought out the contact, and secondly, she kissed his lips. It was the most personal thing they had seen her do so far. Up until now, she had never made the first move; always having been forced out of fear.

For all those watching, Mrs Weasley watching from behind her fingers at one point, everything seemed to change. They watched as, when he had barged into her in the Three Broomsticks, she stood up clasping a small piece of parchment in her fingers. They saw their near discovery by his son and then their disappearance to Malfoy manor. Lucius noticed that she had omitted their dalliance in the Quidditch stadium, probably to preserve her dignity and not to incense her former Professors.

The courtroom was, quite perversely transfixed, as they watched her meet his wife at the Minister's Christmas reception, and saw his furtive glances when Narcissa wasn't watching. Harry, Ron and Hermione could not help but smirk as she played nice with Narcissa and then listened to what she really had to say about her. Sirius felt the anger well up inside of him as he realised the note she had sent him, saying that she was spending the night at the Minister's, had been a complete lie. A lie that she'd had no trouble in telling.

She had, indeed, included nearly everything in her account. She revealed to them what had happened on the next Valentine's Day; showing her first animagus transformation, their talk and how close Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny had come to discovering the pair of them. Hermione saw how wrong she had been when she had talked to Harry and Ron after the Governor's visit; seeing that Kathryn had been doing exactly what Hermione had been confident she wasn't. They also watched how she confronted him over the pictures he had seen and were quite stunned when he informed her of her superiority to any other woman he knew.

The next images that flashed before their eyes were those of her at the Quidditch stadium, sitting in between Malfoy and Fudge. They listened to their whispered conversation. They watched as she ate dinner with Malfoy, Draco, Pansy and Fudge in, not Fudge's country residence, but Malfoy Manor. Harry couldn't believe the stupidity of Draco as he walked in to find her still with his father in his study when it was past midnight. How couldn't he have realised that something was afoot? Once again, they found it difficult to accept the ease with which she lied to them, both about where she was going for dinner and why she really didn't come home straight away the next morning.

The biggest shock came when they reached Easter and she discovered that her foster parents had been murdered by the Death Eaters. They stared as he ran to her aid and cared for her; his despair at her condition plain to see. They stared as she lashed out at him, hurting herself further in her anger, and then as he nursed her once again; barely leaving her side. Dumbledore watched curiously as, after the funeral, she went out in search of him before disappearing to drown her sorrows in a notorious wizarding nightclub. To his amazement, and that of everyone else in the room, they saw him go in search of her and extract her from what could have become a very dangerous situation had she stayed there.

The next images that assailed their eyes were those of their near discovery, this time by Snape. They watched them talk, once he was gone, and they watched that talk turn nasty. Sirius shot out of his seat when they saw his fist connect sickeningly with her face, only to be pulled back down by Lupin and Harry. Harry was, himself, practically shaking with anger at what he saw. His heart was racing as she ran faster than he had ever seen her go, clutching her face with tears streaming down her cheeks. They saw the terror in her eyes as he caught up with her and, it appeared, tried to apologise. As she moved the ice from her cheek, they got a fleeting view of the snake that was now imprinted upon the soft skin. She flinched as he touched her and, again, she ran; pulling off her elaborate outfit and disapparating back home. Down in his seat, Lucius' stomach churned nastily, not wanting to remember what he had done to her.

Snape sat motionless and expressionless as these images played out before them. His question about her abrupt return to Grimmauld Place had been answered. His questions about the mystery woman that had been present at Malfoy Manor that day had also been answered, although not in a good way.

Time skipped forwards again to her receipt of the ticket to the Quidditch World Cup Final and her subsequent return to Malfoy Manor, mere days after he had lashed out at her so violently. They were astonished, bewildered even, to find him remorseful for what he had done. He was tender, kind even, as she finally went to him after having been cold towards him all day. They all noticed the way he seemed to dote on her and the way she seemed to bring out an entirely new person. They could not believe how brazenly he flaunted her in front of Fudge and the press, unable to decide whether they were angrier at him or Fudge for not realising anything.

Incapable of seeing most of the people sat in the benches, Lucius was incapable of gauging people's reactions to what they saw. He had heard a few gasps, but they could mean anything. He was slightly glad that she had omitted what had happened at his Manor afterwards, preferring that such details remained private.

Outside in the tenth floor corridor, Kathryn was pacing nervously. She had tried sitting down, but it was no better. Judging by the time, they were probably nearing the end of her memory. The corridor was completely silent and it annoyed her not to know how people were reacting. She had tried her best to show that he had been kind to her and that, however slowly, their feelings had changed substantially by the time they were discovered. She could only hope that they believed it, although she knew that Fudge would question everything. She kept her ears strained for any noise that indicated that they were finishing; not wanting to be waiting out here when everyone exited.

Inside, time had now advanced past their victory in the Quidditch Cup and the events afterwards. They were now being shown what had happened at the ball when no one was watching. She showed them everything; from his carefully planned solicitation of her hand to their clandestine kiss beneath the weeping willow in the gardens. Everything Harry, Ron and Hermione saw that they had thought was part of her ploy was now tinged with what they knew. The way her hand or hips subtly brushed against his was not a fake gesture, but a very much real expression of desire.

The next part was very surreal for the Order members sat in the courtroom. It had happened just over a month ago, but they found themselves watching that last battle against the Death Eaters. She let them see their brief embrace in the classroom, making sure that it was apparent that he saved her from death at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange by intervening when he did. They witnessed their apparent death and Lucius' selfless act that had saved them both. They then watched as everything else unfolded, as they disappeared in the ensuing mêlée and saw how she sought him out. The members of the Wizengamot saw, for the first time, the end of Voldemort in all its mundane finality and watched as she was flung out the window.

There was absolute silence as they saw Malfoy retreat out of the Hall and snatch Kathryn up from where she had fallen; taking her straight to Malfoy Manor where, to their astonishment, he set about tending to her wounds. Here, the silence was only broken as Mrs Weasley let out a scream when they saw the full extent of her injuries. Her ankle was broken, bruised and swollen and her legs were covered in gashes and deep purple bruising. He carefully tended to these before turning to her upper body. Once he removed her jumper, the shoulder and left arm completely burned away, they realised what she had meant when she had told them that her injuries had been 'pretty bad'. In comparison, she had fared worst out of all of them. Harry thought it was probably right to assume that, if he hadn't taken her with him, she would quite possibly have been dead by the time the rest of the Order reached her.

Her arm was an ugly mess of raw burns and pus-filled welts that oozed a sickly orange substance as well as blood. Her armour, that had protected her so well, had melted to her skin under the heat of the magical flame and she winced in pain as he tried his best to remove it gently. Hermione buried her head in Ron's shoulder as they saw her twist her hands into the sheets and close her eyes, Malfoy positioning himself to rip off the dragon hide. This drew a second shriek from Mrs Weasley as, with his leg braced on the bed frame, Malfoy tore off the armour. Ginny also hid her eyes as they watched flesh tear off along with the armour, leaving a bloody, burned mess where once flawless skin had been. Her mouth opened in a violent, guttural scream before her eyes fluttered closed. Harry was glad that, after such intense pain, she was now lying unconscious on the bed as he worked; probably best as he tugged the armour the rest of the way off her body. Realising that she must have used some of Malfoy's memories for this, as how could she have a memory of this if she was passed out, they continued to watch.

Madam Pomfrey, sitting next to Professor Flitwick, was knocked for six at what she was seeing. She would never have believed it if someone had told her what he had done. With injuries like that, she would have sent Miss Potter straight to St Mungo's rather than risk further damage. He staunched the bleeding with towels and then set to work healing the wound with the various potions spread around him. It took a while, but she was eventually healed and her side had returned to normal; the blood on the bed around her the only evidence of what she had been like before.

Time skipped suddenly forwards and she showed them the simple way that he held her close; stroking his hands through her hair and down her sides; apparently thankful that she was merely alive. Similarly, she clung to him as he kissed her, as if nothing else in the world mattered. It was there that the memory ended and, after nearly two hours, the torches were re-lit. Most people spent several moments adjusting their eyes to the light and, with a small cough; Fudge rose and addressed the courtroom.

"In light of what we have just seen, this trial is adjourned until eleven o'clock tomorrow in order for the Wizengamot to deliberate what they have seen." The rest of the Wizengamot stood. "Take him away." Fudge motioned for the Aurors to remove Malfoy.

Outside, Kathryn could hear the sounds of many feet getting up and she quickly disappeared up the stairs and into the lift waiting on the ninth level. As it clattered upwards towards the Atrium, she tried to plan what she would do next. From what she had heard, Fudge liked to make an example of the captured Death Eaters and had them escorted through the more public areas of the Ministry, namely the Atrium. She had also gleaned, from the chatter, that Lucius was being kept in the ministry as opposed to being returned to Azkaban every night. That meant that they would have to walk through the Atrium. Ignoring the stares as she exited the lift, she walked purposefully over to the fountain where she perched on the edge and waited.

Back in the courtroom, Lucius was being kept guarded whilst everyone else exited; most of them looking shocked at what they had seen. Once the corridor was silent, he was escorted up the flight of stairs and into the one empty lift that sat waiting. He had arrived at the Ministry the previous evening, just as many of the witches and wizards who worked there had finished work and were leaving for the day. He knew Fudge took pleasure in seeing his enemies humiliated and he was not surprised when he was escorted through the busting Atrium towards the dingy room where he had spent the night. It seemed that Fudge had the same planned for him today.

Upstairs, Kathryn was still sat on the fountain. She was carefully ignoring the large group that was standing watching her; Harry looking desperate to talk to her. She sat still and silent, her eyes fixed on the elevators until her patience was rewarded by the emergence of several Aurors with their wands out. Lucius was in the middle of the group, trying his best to look his usual haughty self, but she could see that Azkaban was taking its toll on him. Standing up, she pushed her way through the throng of people until she was standing right in front of Rufus Scrimgeour who was leading the group of Aurors.

"Out of my way, if you please, Miss Potter." He asked, trying to move past.

"No, no Scrimgeour." She gave him a dry smile. "Out of my way." She used his cane to push him out of her way and, moving before any of the Aurors could stop her, practically flung herself into his arms. Whilst what she was doing seemed like a loving embrace to the rest of the people in the room, it was, in fact, a sneaky method of allowing her hands to roam across his chest inconspicuously. As she expected, as their lips met, she found severely pronounced ribs and shoulders.

"Miss Potter, we must ask you," Scrimgeour said politely, trying to get rid of her.

"No, I'm sorry gentlemen," she slowly pulled away from Lucius, turning to face them with a scary fire in her eyes, "but you'll have to wait." She found Lucius' hand with her own. "Mr Malfoy and I have a meeting with Minister Fudge."

"The Minister is busy." Scrimgeour protested as she turned and made to walk off. "He is not seeing anyone this afternoon." He motioned to the Aurors to stop them going any further. Many people were now watching this unfold, including Harry and her friends.

"I don't give a damn!" she shouted, whirling back around to face him. "He will see me whether he likes it or not!" pushing past the Aurors, she swept away to the lifts with Lucius; disappearing into the nearest one before they could do anything. The people who had been in that lift speedily vacated it as soon as it reached the next floor, even if that wasn't their destination.

"I'm going to kill Fudge." She muttered once they were alone.

"Nice to see you too." He smirked.

"I'm sorry." She sighed, leaning into him, exhausted, as the lift travelled upwards.

"It's alright." He placed a reassuring arm around her shoulders. "Besides, it wouldn't do you much good to kill Fudge." He shrugged. "Unless life in Azkaban has been one of your lifelong dreams."

"Fine, I'll just give him a very large piece of my mind." She smirked back at him, gliding out of the elevator once it stopped on the top level.

Percy Weasley was on his feet immediately as soon as she came through the door; doing a slight double take at the sight of Lucius behind her.

"Minister Fudge," he began in his overly pompous voice, trying to look and sound important.

"Don't get in my way Percy," she warned, striding through the desks, "or I will curse you, and I would hate to have to tell your mother it was me." Percy gulped and, looking at the way she fingered the top of the cane, he retreated to his desk. He ducked as she withdrew her wand, only to watch her use it to release the lock and send the doors flying open with a bang.

"Miss Potter!" Fudge stammered as he saw her. "What are you…?" his voice disappeared when he saw Lucius behind her. "What do you think you are doing? What happened to Scrimgeour?" he demanded, getting up from his chair and scurrying across the room towards her.

"I would like you to explain," she told him in an icily calm voice, "if you always go back on your word, or if I am just a special case."

"What, what do you mean?" Fudge stuttered, backing away from her as she advanced on him.

"I kept my side of the bargain!" she shouted at him, the strength of her anger making the room shake slightly. "So explain to me why he is thinner than he was the last time I saw him?"

"I cannot appear to be treating prisoners with more favour than others." Fudge protested.

"That is no reason to starve someone!"

"I am not starving him!" Fudge retorted, trying to wrest control of the situation.

"I kept my side of the bargain!" she shouted again, not even listening to him prattle on. "I kept it, dammit!" she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down before she spoke anymore. "I did as you asked." She sighed. "I didn't run to the press, I waited until now to tell what happened and I only went out when necessary."

"The one time you went out, you did so to pressure me." Fudge challenged, the colour rising in his cheeks.

"I wasn't going to wait forever."

"Favourable treatment of one inmate will spark riots!" Fudge protested.

"They don't have the strength to riot you fool!"

"I will not treat him differently." Fudge spluttered.

"Oh so you starve the other prisoners too, do you?"

"He deserves what he gets!" he blustered, failing in his attempt to get her to back down.

"Fine." She replied casually. "If you want to play it like this, I'll show you some real hardball tactics."

"I beg your pardon?" Fudge became even more flustered than he already was, uncomfortable at the sound of this veiled threat. "We, we can compromise." He offered in a stuttering voice, trying to salvage the situation as best he could.

"Too late, Fudge." She shook her head, a vicious smile tugging at her mouth. "As of tomorrow," she began in a painfully slow voice, "the trial is open to anyone who wishes to attend." The colour drained from Fudge's face.

"But you can't!" he spluttered.

"Do not cross me Fudge." Kathryn shook her head. "When will you get it that I am not going to slip you a sack full of Galleons when I want something done?"

"I, I can't believe." Fudge spluttered, unable to put a sentence together.

"I'll see you at eleven tomorrow morning." She gave him a curt nod goodbye. "Oh, and seeing as you have proven incapable of keeping a promise, I am taking Lucius home with me." She did not give Fudge time to reply before sweeping out the door, stopping before Percy; who as usual sprang to attention.

"Send an urgent message to the Daily prophet offices," she instructed Percy, "it needs to state that the trial, as of tomorrow, is open for all to attend." Percy nodded, scribbling feverishly. "That has to go in this evening's edition and tomorrow's" Percy nodded, rolling up the scroll and, with a wave of his wand, it disappeared in an orange flame.

"Anything else, Miss Potter?" Percy asked. She had never gotten to know Percy, arriving in England just after he and his parents had their argument and he had moved out. It was strange to hear someone from a family she knew and loved addressing her so formally.

"An urgent memo to Scrimgeour." She recited. "Informing him that Mr Malfoy will be returning to his manor with me and not to Azkaban." Percy nodded, again scribbling at a speed Kathryn wouldn't have thought possible. "Thanks Percy." She smiled at him as the memo zoomed off.

"No problem." At this point, after having heard her unflinching dressing down of Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic himself, Percy wasn't in a mood to argue.

They let the memo disappear in the first lift, waiting for the second one to arrive so as Scrimgeour would get the memo and read it before they arrived back in the Atrium. This would save even more time having to explain what was going on as, eve though he would never admit it, Lucius was beginning to flag. She could see the weariness in his eyes and noticed the way he grasped the edges of desks or leant against the wall when he was standing up for a long period of time.

"How did you get here?" he asked nonchalantly in the lift, hoping that she hadn't apparated as he doubted he had the strength to do so.

"Car, it's waiting outside." She told him, slipping a supportive arm around his waist. The elevator ground to a halt in the atrium and they stepped out, Kathryn not letting go of his waist as they crossed the room.

Scrimgeour eyed them as they walked past, clutching the purple memo in his hand and looking annoyed. Kathryn merely gave him a smile and kept on walking.

"Keep walking, we'll be out before they find out the order didn't come from Fudge." She whispered in his ear as they approached the phone box.

"What is this, a rescue?" he asked.

"Sort of."

"Kathryn!" a voice called to her as the red door of the phone box came even closer. "Wait!"

"Not now Harry." She told her brother as he ran over to them, just as they reached the exit. "I'll talk to you all later, promise." She stepped inside the Muggle phone box and closed the door.

He sank into the soft upholstery of the car with a tired smile.

"Home, quickly." Kathryn said as soon as she shut her door and, silently, the driver reversed out into the busy London street and drove off; ignoring several red lights as it went.

"It's nice to feel something other than cold stone." He commented, running his hand over the fabric. "Nice not to hear the other prisoners talking to themselves or screaming in their sleep."

"You'll be home soon." She reassured him. "And you can sleep in a comfortable bed too, not on a thin mattress with a threadbare blanket."

"Azkaban is not conducive for a good night's sleep." He agreed, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.

"I'd imagine." Kathryn replied, but he had already fallen asleep. Gently, she pulled him down so his head was resting on her knee. After all, she thought, he might as well be comfortable. She stroked her hand through his hair as they drove, noticing the signs of neglect in the usually lustrous mane. His hands too also showed the signs of his internment; they were chapped from the cold and a fine layer of dirt rested behind the nails. Leaning back in her seat, she shut her eyes and, despite knowing full well that it could not last; she allowed herself to feel content.


	58. Chapter 58

A/N - A bath, a sleep and a visit from some most unwelcome guests...enjoy!! Please leave me a review, any comments are greatly appreciated!!

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Thankfully, most Muggle speed limits seemed to have been ignored, and they were back at the manor in no time. She roused him gently as the car came to a stop at the foot of the steps.

"I'm afraid I can't carry you up the stairs." She told him with a warm smile.

"I'd be worried if you could."

Once they were out and his arm was resting around her shoulders, she handed back his cane.

"I think you need this more than I do." He nodded appreciatively, leaning on the cane for extra support as he walked.

"It's good to be home." He sighed as he walked through the door. "I know it sounds prosaic, but it's true."

"Well, I hate to spoil the party, but it's bath, food and then bed for you." She laughed, helping him slowly up the stairs.

"How about we skip straight to the last?" he asked hopefully, a smirk on his face, as they walked into the master bedroom.

"The last time I checked," she replied with a similar smirk, "I wasn't conducive to a good night's sleep either!" she disappeared into the wardrobe and appeared moments later in her favourite baggy jeans and a loose green top. "Wait a second, I'll be right back." She disappeared out the door and he heard her practically run down the stairs.

Kathryn's heart was light as air as she hurried downstairs to fetch the potion he had used to revive her just weeks before. It felt so wonderful to have him back, even though it was only for one night. The fact that she now had to tell the Wizengamot what had happened before a crowd of eager spectators didn't bother her a bit, she was so happy. She set the house elves making a light meal before heading back towards the stairs, only to be stopped by a knock on the door. Cautiously, she stowed the vial in her pocket and drew her wand. Expecting anything, she opened the door a crack only to catch sight of a familiar mane of tawny hair streaked with grey.

"Scrimgeour. Dawlish." She greeted them coldly, standing firmly in the doorway, keeping her wand in plain sight. "My two favourite people." She gave them a dry smile. "What might I do for you?"

"We're here at the request of Minister Fudge." Scrimgeour informed her curtly. "Where is Malfoy?"

"Not here." She replied disinterestedly, deciding that she would have some fun with the pair of them.

"Not here!" Scrimgeour shouted. "What do you mean 'not here'? Where is he?"

"The Malfoy I know is still detained in Azkaban, if I am correct. Now, Mr Malfoy is upstairs and is not going to be disturbed, save by me." Scrimgeour and Dawlish did not meet her eyes for several moments after she said this, only looking up when she spoke again. "Now, what might it be that Fudge wants?"

"Minister Fudge has requested that we remain here to prevent any escape attempt by Malfoy." Scrimgeour told her in a businesslike manner.

"Fine." She shrugged; turning and walking away. "Close the door after you."

Once inside, Scrimgeour and Dawlish headed up the stairs after her, barely noticing the spectacular architecture that most usually goggled at. Something about the crests carved into the imposing double doors told them that this was the room they were looking for and, without even knocking, they barged in. The pair of them were standing before the fireplace; Malfoy with his shirt open, cradling Kathryn to his chest.

"What's this?" he asked in her ear.

"They're from Fudge." She murmured back. "I'll take care of them." Lucius nodded and, without so much as looking at Scrimgeour and Dawlish, he walked off towards the bathroom.

"What can I do-" Kathryn began, trying her best to remain civil until she caught sight of Dawlish following Lucius. "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?" she roared, blasting Dawlish off his feet with a wave of her wand.

"We are here to make sure he does not escape." Scrimgeour repeated in a calm voice.

"That may be so but that is going too far!" she shouted back, keeping her wand on the pair of them. "Where do you think he is going to go?" she asked, not changing her tone.

"He is a dangerous criminal." Scrimgeour reasoned. "He cannot be left alone."

"So I no longer count as a person anymore, do I?" she asked, Scrimgeour's comments enraging her even more. "He is not dangerous here you morons!" she yelled.

"We have a duty," Scrimgeour began again, trying to calm her down.

"Sod your duty, I frankly don't give a damn!" she screamed; her anger making the windows rattle as her magic gradually spiralled out of control. "Now get out! OUT!" Dawlish and Scrimgeour seemed to have got the message as they scurried out, being pushed slightly by her magic. Taking a deep, relaxing breath Kathryn lowered her wand and walked into the bathroom where the scent of various bubbles assaulted her senses. In the time she had spent screaming at the two Aurors he had filled the bath and was lounging in the steaming water. Like the Prefects' bathroom back at Hogwarts, the bathtub was sunk deep into the floor and took up half of the room. She assumed that it was enchanted as the floor was not deep enough to hold something of that size. Silver taps lined along the edge each produced a different type of bubbles; some sending little rainbows scudding across the surface of the water whilst others filled the air with rich aromas.

"You should really talk to someone about your rage." He commented jokily as she entered.

"It's not rage, just well founded anger." She replied with a smirk, settling herself on the cool floor near his head, rolling her jeans up and dangling her legs in the water. "And that was just going too far."

"I don't think they'll be disturbing us again."

"Fudge just can't expect me just to lie down and take everything he does." She seethed, moving to sit behind his head. "I don't have the word doormat stamped on my forehead after all." She sat there, her fingers playing in his hair; carefully undoing the tangles.

"Since when do I get this kind of treatment?" he asked curiously.

"Not often. Dunk." She ordered; pushing his head until it disappeared beneath the water. Summoning one of the many bottles lined up on the shelf, she squeezed a generous amount of the lotion into her hand and set about working it into his hair as soon as he resurfaced.

"Why not use a scouring charm?" he asked as she furiously worked the shampoo into a lather; not leaving any strand of hair untouched.

"Because, this is infinitely more relaxing," she smiled, massaging his scalp gently, "and it is also a favour that will have to be repaid later. I warn you, my hair takes a lot longer than yours!" she smirked.

"I'll bear that in mind." He murmured, never having found something so simple so relaxing before. This was quite rudely interrupted by a large amount of warm water cascading down on his head. Spluttering and wiping his eyes, he turned around to see Kathryn holding a large pewter jug and wearing a naughty smirk on her face.

"What?" she asked him innocently. "How else am I supposed to rinse that out?" he opened his mouth to reply but instead found another jug full of water being tipped over his head.

"Finished!" she announced, smiling sweetly down at him as he wiped the latest deluge of water from his eyes. With a spring in her step, she walked back across the bathroom floor and replaced the jug in its proper place.

"You could have at least warned me that was coming." He told her, floating along to follow her as she walked.

"But it isn't nearly as refreshing if you know it's coming." She giggled. "And not nearly as funny!"

"Interesting theory." He mused as she crouched down near where he was leaning against the edge of the bath. "Let's test it." Moving surprisingly fast, his arm shot out from beneath the water and yanked her towards him before she could move.

"Don't you dare!" she cried, trying to stand up and pull away. It was all to no avail, however, and she found herself tumbling headfirst into the bubbly depths of the bath. With a grin, he leisurely floated back to where he had been sitting and waited for her to emerge. Slowly, she reappeared in the deeper end of the bath; a crown of bubbles atop her head and a frown upon her face.

"Not funny." She pouted as he chuckled at her appearance. "I've lost my jeans now. Excuse me." With a deep breath, she rose out of the water slightly before plunging back down to retrieve her jeans that now lay on the marble bottom. She surfaced moments later with the piece of sodden material clutched in her hand, throwing it onto the floor where it landed with a wet slap. These were soon followed by her top, which now looked more black than green, it was so waterlogged.

"See, it is much more refreshing when you don't expect it." He commented leisurely as she floated over.

"Very funny." She replied dryly, pushing her straggly hair out of her eyes as she sat beside him. "Oh well, seeing as it's wet." She pulled the bottle of shampoo over and worked it expertly into her long hair, slapping his wrists away as he tried to help. "Oh no, you're repaying that favour some other time." She smirked, sinking back beneath the water to get the suds out of her hair.

They sat next to each other in the warm water for a while longer; neither of them speaking, Kathryn leaning against his chest as his fingers stroked through her wet hair. Not really wanting to move, Kathryn reluctantly got out of the water and removed the soaking underwear she was still wearing before wrapping an enormous fluffy white towel around herself. She tossed him a similar towel as he too rose from the water before disappearing into the cavernous walk-in wardrobe.

"I'll go get some food. Proper, well cooked food; none of that foul prison gruel. " She told him, reappearing in naught but one of his black shirts and her black underwear. He raised his eyebrows sceptically at her attire.

"Are you sure that's entirely appropriate considering that we have guests?" he asked, motioning to the shirt. "Even though they are unwelcome."

"All the more reason to make them even more uncomfortable." She smirked. "Besides, they wouldn't dare touch, so you don't need to worry."

"Just try and be nice."

"Only if they are." She smiled and wandered out the door; passing a stunned Scrimgeour and a wide-eyed Dawlish as she went.

The house elves had indeed excelled themselves, and she returned upstairs with several trays laden with enough food for about five people. She let the two Aurors, sitting outside the door looking thoroughly bored, ogle at the food as she passed; they would have to fetch their own if they wanted anything. Lucius was already settled in bed, propped up with several large pillows.

"I hope you're hungry." She nodded her head at the feast that had been prepared. "I think the house elves got a little over zealous at your return."

To Lucius, food had never tasted better as he bit into a piece of succulent chicken. Kathryn sat cross legged on the bed, her plate balanced on her knee as she told him what she had been doing since they last saw each other. It appeared that she had explored every last inch of the manor and the various secret passages and rooms concealed within it. She made no mention of what she had found, save for his underground library.

"Hermione is really annoyed that I haven't let her look at any." She giggled. "But I don't know the enchantments on them, if there are any; and I don't want her getting hurt, least of all by a book."

"The ones on the normal shelves are safe; the ones in the cabinets with the glass doors are the ones to watch." He told her between mouthfuls.

"I'll tell her that in a few weeks." Kathryn mused, spearing a piece of chicken with her fork. "Once she's read everything in the main library."

"Well, that's all well and good, but what about you?" he pushed, noticing how she had been avoiding talking about herself.

"I'm fine." She told him, not entirely true. "I've stopped reading the editorials in the Prophet, doubled the monthly contribution that you make to St Mungo's and had to suffer the indignity of having Snape trying it on with me." She said casually, waiting to see his reaction.

"He told me about that."

"What!" she exclaimed, slamming her fork down. "He told you!"

"It appears that your brother wanted to know just exactly how loyal you were to me."

"He could have just asked." She spat, amazed at the fact that Harry could have done that.

"It appears that he was afraid to do so."

"I'll kill him when he comes over." She seethed, stabbing violently at the remaining piece of chicken on her plate.

"I wouldn't be so hasty," he warned, "he only cares. And, to be fair, I wanted to know the same thing." He admitted sheepishly.

"You doubted me?" she asked in disbelief.

"Not for a moment. I merely wanted to know if you were prepared for the accusations and questions that are to come."

"Well, you picked the right person to start accusing and insulting me." She commented.

"So the next time you see him, you probably shouldn't hex him."

"And to think I was looking forward to that." She sighed.

"He showed me what you did, using Legilimency." He explained. "And he apologises for treating you in such a horrible way."

"I knew he wouldn't have done such a thing willingly!" she smiled, feeling as if a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. "He has shown enough contempt for me in the past to be incapable of such a thing."

"Do not take him at face value," Lucius warned her, "I have known him much longer than most and he has a healthy respect for you, your brother and your friends." Kathryn's jaw dropped. "Although, in his words, he does not want to further inflate your heads by showering you with praise."

"Well, I'll believe that when he takes back what he said to Hermione about her teeth. I expect Draco wrote gleefully home to you about that one."

"As a matter of fact, he did," Lucius mused, "I believe that I wrote back telling him to grow up. I think I also said that if he wasn't prepared to use stronger curses, he would be a mockery of a Death Eater when his time came. It looks as if I was right."

"That's practically a Trelawny prediction!" Kathryn laughed, surprised that he had been so candid about his son.

They sat there talking for a little longer, until Kathryn noticed his eyes beginning to droop. In a manner not dissimilar to that of Madam Pomfrey; she removed the pillows from behind his head and straightened the bedspread.

"Rest." She murmured in his ear. "You're going to need it." She kissed him lightly on the cheek and slid off the bed. Crossing to the wardrobe, she pulled on a pair of her own loose pyjama bottoms. With a wave of her wand, she stacked the cleared plates on one of the trays and headed out the door with them floating along behind her. Scrimgeour and Dawlish were still in the chairs outside the doors looking bored, although Scrimgeour sprang up as son as the door opened.

"If you need anything to eat, you could ask the elves in the kitchen." She offered. "But be quiet, he's asleep."

"And what exactly are you going to do?" Scrimgeour asked. He noticed that, despite being back home and having apparently taken a bath and changed into her pyjamas, she was still wearing the necklace of diamonds she had been around her neck that morning. It was an odd image to look at. Tanned arms poked out of rolled up sleeves. Black hair cascaded down her back in impossibly long waves. The open shirt created a deep, plunging V-neckline that Scrimgeour noticed Dawlish unable to tear his eyes off.

"None of your business." Her voice startled him out of his thoughts and she wandered off.

"Dawlish, close your mouth." Scrimgeour ordered the Auror who was still staring after her.

The house elves thanked her profusely when she returned the plates, insisting that she needn't have troubled herself. She shook off their comments and headed through to the opposite wing of the house; opening the concealed chamber in the wall and replacing the tiny crystal vial in its holder. She would have to ask Professor Snape to brew some more if Lucius was going to be in and out of Azkaban like this. Knowing Snape, however, he would probably refuse and she would have to either beg or do it herself.

The manor was infuriatingly quiet. For the past few weeks, it had been fairly busy; with Harry, Ron and Hermione visiting most days. She was very tempted to owl the Prophet and arrange an exclusive interview. It had become boring just to sit around all day waiting; she was sick of playing nice with Fudge and just accepting the slander that they printed in the newspapers. She could take satisfaction in the fact that tomorrow they would all be changing their tune over what she had done. The problem still remained, however, that she could not see any way for Lucius to escape with less than a life sentence. Annoyed, she grabbed a handful of green Floo powder from a silver box above the fireplace and tossed it in the flames.

"Number twelve Grimmauld Place." She said, sticking her head right into the emerald flames. She closed her eyes as her head spun, her body remaining firmly on the floor in the drawing room; she had never enjoyed travelling by Floo.

"Anyone there?" she shouted out as her head stopped spinning in the kitchen hearth of Grimmauld Place. A figure in black robes and with greasy black hair rose and walked over to the fire.

"Who wants to know?" Snape's face became level with her own.

"What are you doing here?" she retorted instantly

"We were just discussing your rather interesting testimony, actually." Snape replied silkily. "Would you like me to fetch your brother?"

"Please." Snape stood and made to go upstairs. "Wait! Professor!" she cried out, wanting to speak to him alone before everyone else rushed into the kitchen.

"Yes?" Snape knelt back down before the fire.

"I wanted to say sorry for attacking you the other day." She said quickly. "Lucius explained the circumstances and I don't hold you to blame."

"Thank you. I took no pleasure in what I did." He admitted with a solemn nod. "I'll go and fetch your brother." Without another word, he swept from the room.

It was not long before she heard voices approaching and the sounds of feet rushing down the stairs. Harry practically fell down in front of the fire, tripping over Crookshanks who was quite delighted at all the excitement.

"Are you alright?" he panted. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. What gave you that idea?" she asked curiously. "I just wanted to talk."

"Well, you haven't been in contact with any of us since you've been living there. We've always come to you." Harry admitted.

"I assumed that people didn't want to talk to me."

"Oh no dear!" Mrs Weasley gushed, falling to the floor next to Harry. "We were just shocked, that's all. It's been a little hard to accept and, oh, what you showed us today. If you weren't in the fire I'd hug you."

"Thanks." She blushed; Mrs Weasley was the only person that hugged her like a mother. True, her foster parents had been kind and loving, but she had always felt a little out of place.

"So where did you go?" Ron asked, squashing in with Hermione, Harry and Sirius. "When you went into the lifts at the Ministry?"

"I went for a little chat with Fudge." She explained. "To remind him of the deal we had."

"You mean his safety for your silence until the trial?" Hermione remembered.

"Yes. He's even thinner." Hermione gasped.

"That's horrible. I never thought I'd be asking this of such an awful man, but is he alright?"

"Yeah. The only problem is I've got Scrimgeour and Dawlish over for the night to play guard." She groaned. "I'm half tempted just to sell my story to the Prophet and be done, if he's going to keep on reneging on his promises. Oh, and you would probably do well to arrive earlier tomorrow." She told them.

"Why would that be?" Sirius asked, raising a questioning eyebrow.

"Because I've let the Prophet know that the trial is open for all to attend from tomorrow." She said casually.

"You've what?" Harry exclaimed. "What possessed you to do that?"

"I'm not having him twisting the facts and I'm sick of being slandered in the Prophet every day." She explained. "With that kind of, erm, audience Fudge cannot hope to twist the facts."

"Are you sure you want to put yourself through this?" Hermione asked her seriously.

"Well, I don't have much choice now, do I?"

"What we mean is are you ready to tell everyone what happened?" Sirius redefined the question.

"I think my 'little stunt at Gringotts', as the Prophet called it, proved that enough." She retorted. "Anyway, you can come over later if you like. I don't want to be cooped up here with only Scrimgeour and Dawlish for company." She groaned.

"Sure." Harry nodded, wanting to get back onto even footing with his sister after their previous argument. "We could come over for dinner if you like."

"Great. Would you mind if I had a private word with Professor Snape?" she asked, ignoring their puzzled looks. "Don't worry; Lucius just asked me to pass on a message." She lied skilfully, avoiding her former Professor's eyes.

"OK then, see you later." Harry nodded. She bade goodbye to everybody in the kitchen before they filed out, leaving Snape alone with her.

"What does Lucius want?" Snape asked curtly, settling himself on the floor in front of the fire.

"I wasn't exactly truthful when I said Lucius wanted something." She admitted, biting her bottom lip.

"Then what might it be, Miss Potter, that you want?" Snape's lips curled into a smirk.

"You brewed a potion." She began before Snape interrupted.

"I have brewed many potions, Miss Potter, be specific."

"Lucius gave it to me after my exposure to the Dementors and I gave him some this afternoon. It counters their effects." She explained. "Is that specific enough for you, Professor?" she could not resist putting the same amount of sarcasm into her voice as he did.

"Yes, I know which one you mean." He snapped. "What do you want?"

"If this is how Fudge is going to play it," she said, referring to Fudge's mistreatment of Lucius, "I am going to need a larger supply of that potion."

"I am not at your every beck and call just because I am Lucius' friend, Miss Potter." He reminded her in his usual caustic manner.

"I did not ask you to brew it," she shot back, "although it would be helpful, you may simply provide me with instructions and I will do it myself." Snape took a deep breath and remembered his promise to Lucius.

"No, I will brew it." He conceded. "You may help me if you wish; you do have a Potions NEWT after all."

"Thank you, Professor." She made sure her look was sincere. "I will pay for all the ingredients needed." She went on. "I can imagine that the components of such a complex potion come at a price."

"They do. I take it you still have some left."

"Yes, but there isn't much." She explained. "I assume that the manor was one of the first stops for any Death Eaters who escaped Azkaban."

"Indeed it was, after returning to their Master first." Snape nodded. "The potion takes six weeks to brew and needs to be kept under very controlled conditions." He explained. "Conditions it is very difficult to maintain in Hogwarts."

"You can use the manor if you like," Kathryn offered; picking up on the hint, "there is no one here but me to disturb it and I can keep check on it."

"Fine. I assume that Saturday will be convenient?"

"Yes. It's not like I've got anywhere to go." Kathryn couldn't believe that Snape had agreed to this.

"If you'll excuse me, I have a meeting with Dumbledore." Snape stood and looked down on her once more. "Good day, Miss Potter."

"Thank you. Say hello to Professor Dumbledore for me." She withdrew her head from the fire and, with a dizzying spinning sensation; she was back on the thick Persian rug before the fire.

"Oh well, back to the gruesome twosome." She sighed to herself. The presence of Scrimgeour and Dawlish had completely ruined her afternoon. She obtained a steaming mug of tea from the house elves and stormed back upstairs; making sure to give the pair of Aurors one of her filthiest looks whilst being careful not to slam the door behind her. Lucius was still sleeping soundly and, careful not to wake him, she headed through to the wardrobe and began the task of deciding what to wear tomorrow. Normally, she wouldn't have given it much thought, but the fact that she was under scrutiny made her think a little more.

She had to look smart, that was a given, but she couldn't appear to be too extravagantly dressed. Unfortunately, most of the clothes that she owned that were suitable for such an occasion were either too ornate or showed off too much flesh for a serious event. She couldn't wear the same thing twice as, looking at the Evening Prophet; they were keeping a close watch in her, including an in-depth analysis of what she wore. Today's outfit had garnered a favourable review, being apparently stylish and sophisticated. Unable to decide, she deserted the wardrobe and promised herself that she would look later. Unsure of what to do, she settled herself next to Lucius on the mattress and stared up at the emerald green hangings above her.


	59. Chapter 59

A/N - Dinner and, passably, polite conversation with the people you would've least expected at the start, along with a very generous, non-sparkly, gift. Enjoy!

* * *

As they normally did, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny apparated to just outside the gates of the Manor and then walked down the drive. They had gradually grown used to the enormous building that towered above them; the high windows and carvings no longer imposing like they used to be. Although, now the lord of the manor was in residence, they weren't sure if they would like it as much. It had become a haven, of sorts, for all of them; especially Harry, Ron and Hermione. Toted as the saviours of the Wizarding world, there was hardly anywhere they could go without being hounded by the press. Indeed, Harry was glad that Grimmauld Place was totally hidden or he presumed that he wouldn't even be able to step out the front door without having a camera flash shoved in his face.

The door was opened by one of the house elves just like it normally was and they were directed upstairs to the Master suite.

"Mistress says to just go in." The house elf squeaked. "Master is sleeping." The four of them nodded and headed up the stairs.

"What if they're, you know." Ron gestured, his eyebrows raised apprehensively. "I'm not sure if I would be able to look her in the face again."

"Honestly Ron!" Hermione sighed, giving her boyfriend a disparaging look. "I don't know why I love you sometimes." She gave him a playful thump on the shoulder.

"I don't think she would have left a message for us to just 'come on in' if she was going to be doing anything Ron." Ginny told Ron in the same voice she would have used to talk to a very small child.

"So why do you tell mum that you're going to do your homework?" Ron taunted. "I didn't know you needed to do transfiguration essays in a locked room."

"Oh yeah, and what do you do?" Ginny shot back. "Say you're playing chess?" both siblings stood still, glaring daggers at each other whilst Harry and Hermione stood behind them giggling. Ron and Ginny, on hearing their respective other-half's laughter, both seemed to back down and eventually joined in.

This laughter quickly ceased, however, as they arrived at the large double doors that were the entrance to the master suite. Scrimgeour and Dawlish were sat outside, looking thoroughly fed up; obviously not the work they thought they would be doing when they joined the Auror office. Both of them snapped to attention when they approached; obviously feeling that they deserved respect, being the heroes of the wizarding world. They gave no sign that they had seen their respectful nods and slight bows and carried straight on in. The sight that met them probably shocked them more than having grown men bowing at them.

The blond they were guarding was sleeping peacefully in the enormous bed; looking completely harmless save for the brand of a skull with a snake protruding from its mouth which adorned his left arm. Beside him was Kathryn; lying on top of the covers in her pyjamas and what appeared to be one of his shirts. Harry took the brief moment, when she had not realised that they were here, to study his sister when she didn't have to put up a front for the public eye. She was lying on her side; one hand resting beneath her head and her long legs stretching down the bed. Her hair flowed lazily across the bedspread and she barely moved save the regular rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. Her eyes were fixed, almost unblinkingly, on the man beside her and they wore an expression that Harry could only define as love.

She held a finger to her lips when she noticed that they were there, instructing them to be quiet. Carefully, she sat up, gave him a soft kiss on the cheek and slid off the bed; walking silently across the room to where they were standing.

"Where should we go?" Harry asked.

"The study." Kathryn whispered back. "No!" she hissed as Harry reached for the doorknob.

"Why not?" Harry hissed back.

"I don't want them to think I've left him alone." She explained in barely a whisper.

"Then how are we supposed to get out?"

"This way." She motioned for them to follow her as she walked into the walk-in wardrobe and opened one of the doors. "Get in." Ignoring their protests, she shoved them in and pulled the door to.

"Ron stop shoving." Hermione complained as Ron's elbow connected with her ribs.

"Well there isn't much space, why do we have to talk in here anyway?"

"If you'll wait." Kathryn sighed, pushing her way through and releasing the wooden panel at the back of the wardrobe. "We can go through here." She indicated the dark passage that stretched out before them.

"Oh, that's alright then." Ron said sheepishly, following her through.

"We're behind the portrait gallery." She told them as they walked. "I reckon this passage was for when the Malfoy men had to hide their mistresses."

"So were even you hidden in here then?" Harry asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"No." she replied casually. "I only ever saw Narcissa once and that was at Fudge's Christmas reception. That was rather uncomfortable," she admitted, "I was all shaky and I felt like I was going to vomit."

"What was she like?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Oh, you know, her usual cold, unfriendly self." Kathryn shrugged. "Although I think I did succeed in cheesing her off quite royally, I mean, you heard what she had to say about me afterwards. I wonder what she would think to the fact that her husband had bought practically everything I was wearing." The four of them blanched at this statement. "And that they were probably more expensive than hers. Here we are." She pushed open the wall before them and they emerged from behind one of the bookcases in his study.

"So that article really was on the right track?" Hermione asked as Kathryn perched herself on the edge of the desk.

"More or less, although if he bought that dress and jewels for Narcissa, it was quite clear with whom he was more concerned." Kathryn admitted.

"So he was the mysterious sender of all those parcels?" Harry asked incredulously. Kathryn merely nodded in response. "When did you find that out?"

"I knew as soon as I got the first one, well, not as soon as. More like when I saw his signature matched the handwriting."

"Anything more we should know about?" Harry went on, apparently quite riled that he hadn't been told this before now.

"Plenty, but you'll have to wait to hear the details as I'm not going through it now, not after today." She explained. "I also don't want them accusing you of hiding information."

"So I take it that Fudge has just gone completely back on his word." Hermione summarised, swiftly changing the topic as she settled herself down in one of the dark green armchairs. "You can even see that he's thin through the bedcovers."

"You know I hadn't honestly thought that you would care or notice that." Kathryn admitted with a smile. "Being who he is."

"Who he is doesn't matter in the slightest." Hermione smiled back at her friend. "He still deserves ethical treatment."

"Are you going to start S.P.A.D now then?" Ron asked incredulously. "Society for the Protection of Azkaban Detainees."

"It's not funny Ron." Kathryn told him sternly. "I had a deal with Fudge and he broke it."

"Sorry. I don't think it's right to do that though." Ron said sheepishly.

"Fudge is getting out of hand with his desire for speedy convictions." Harry mused. "Dumbledore, Sirius, Lupin and Moody are worried he will adopt the stance that Barty Crouch did after Voldemort's first disappearance." He explained. "You know; no trial and sent packing to Azkaban for life."

"If he dares try that I'll land on top of him like a ton of bricks." She smirked evilly. "Just slip it to Rita Skeeter that Death Eaters have had his ear for years and that he has accepted bribes. I'm sure that they'd have a field day with that."

"How can you prove he accepted bribes?" Hermione asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Look at the Malfoy bank account records." Kathryn explained as though she had thought this all through. "You compare the passing or delay of laws supported by Malfoy to significant withdrawals from the vault or very generous donations to charity."

"I'm not sure Lucius would be happy with you doing that." Harry remarked.

"It's only a backup plan." Kathryn said, shaking her head. "I wouldn't do something like that unless I was really desperate. I want Fudge to be Minister during this whole thing because I would be doomed if there was a competent person chairing the Wizengamot; Fudge's apparent lack of common sense is key."

"Are you desperate though?" Harry asked rather bluntly.

"No." she replied quickly and firmly. "I am going to fight this with the truth and a smart plan." She told them of her strategy. "I'm not going to belittle it with cheap shots at disgustingly easy targets. Plus, Fudge would say that he was in the dark as to his status as a Death Eater whereas I was fully aware of the fact."

"But you weren't at fault for what you did!" Ron protested. "What you did was brave; Fudge never sacrificed himself for anything. I can't think of anyone else that I know who could have put up with such a thing."

"Thanks Ron." Kathryn blushed slightly at the flattery, giving him a warm smile. "But they'll counter that by saying what I did was foolhardy and reckless and that I should have told someone."

"Tell them they don't know a thing about how something like that feels." Hermione said indignantly.

"That's what I'm worried about." Kathryn confessed. "I fear that, in the scandal that my life has become, they will forget what actually happened to me at the start."

"I'm not sure how anyone could forget what they saw today." Harry replied darkly. "I don't think I will."

"At least you only watched." Kathryn's voice had gone hollow and her eyes were blankly staring ahead. "I know the fear that the Death Eater's masks inspire," she explained, "but when you are alone with nothing but a sheet to protect you from whatever they might have in mind, the terror is worse than when they outnumber you fifty to one."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Harry asked her pleadingly.

"If I'd allowed you to hear what he said to me then, you'd understand why." She told Harry quietly. "I left it out because I thought your Mum might faint if she heard it." She inclined her head at Ron and Ginny.

"So was that everything?" Ginny asked. "Was what we saw everything that happened?"

"Of course not." Kathryn shook her head, deciding to be frank. "I have no desire to show every instant that we were together; only to illustrate a basic timeline of events. As I understand it, I am to elaborate on the details tomorrow."

"So we should be prepared to be shocked." Harry stated bluntly.

"No, you should be prepared to listen."

"But if you listen, you must also try to understand." Another voice spoke from the hidden doorway through which they had emerged. They all turned to see Lucius Malfoy standing there, still looking imposing even though only wearing pyjama bottoms and a green dressing gown that Harry had seen Kathryn wear on several occasions.

"What are you doing up?" Kathryn asked quickly, springing up from where she was perched on the edge of his desk and crossing the room in an instant. Harry noticed that this was exactly the same way he had gone to her when Fudge had left her at the mercy of the Dementors. "You should be resting." They heard her murmur as he sat down.

"I heard visitors."

"Yes, although these are infinitely more welcome then our other guests." She groaned, thinking of Scrimgeour and Dawlish who were still sitting outside the master suite. "I think we could leave them there all night and just use the servants' passages to get you about, at least then we might get some peace."

"I don't think I've ever used those before." He mused.

"Well, you're going to have to swallow your pride and slum it for today." Kathryn teased. "Because I'm not having them leaning over me when I eat."

"Did I ever suggest that I would do such?" he retorted, raising his eyebrows at her.

"No, but I'm just being pre-emptive." She flashed him a dry smile. "That is, of course, if you want to stay for tea?" she asked hopefully.

"Sure," Harry nodded, "what's for dinner by the way, I'm starving." He asked, earning a similar nod from Ron.

"Sautéed foie gras, magret of duck with orange and cointreau glaze and chocolate tart." Kathryn reeled off, enjoying Ron's shocked face.

"On second thoughts, we might go back to number twelve for Toad in the Hole." Ron said quickly, looking rather worried at the extravagant menu.

"I'm only kidding!" Kathryn giggled. "You can have whatever you want for dinner. I'm sure the elves will be thrilled to know we have guests and, considering what they made for our lunch, they'll put on a spread fit for Hogwarts."

"That's ok then!" Ron grinned. "When do we eat?"

"Well," Kathryn glanced at the clock, "it's six now, so we need to give the elves time to cook. Is seven ok?"

"Great!" Ron clapped his hands together. "Can I go and let the house elves know?" he asked.

"Yeah, only go back through the passage and out the bedroom doors." Kathryn reminded him as he headed for the study door. "Just to keep the gruesome twosome in the dark." She smiled dryly as Ron practically ran for the passage.

"Is his stomach all that boy thinks about?" Lucius commented as soon as he was gone.

"I didn't give you leave to insult my friends." Kathryn said quickly in a tone of measured anger. "Play nice or I'll just give you back to Scrimgeour and Dawlish." Harry, Hermione and Ginny were, quite frankly, shocked to hear her speak to him like this. True, they had never seen the pair of them together like this before, but they had always imagined that he was the dominant force in the relationship and would never tolerate being spoken to in such a manner.

"Is killing Muggle-borns all you think about?" Hermione shot back, her arms crossed and a ferocious glare in her eyes. Lucius was about to reply when Kathryn intervened.

"I did not yell at Fudge and sacrifice my privacy to sit here and listen to you argue." Her voice was calm but belied the anger she felt. "You either get along or you all leave and I'll eat my dinner alone and, honestly, I do that too often these days." Her tone was firm and brooked no compromise.

"Sorry." Hermione apologised, looking sheepishly at her feet.

"And you." She gave Lucius a reproachful look.

"Sorry." He replied grudgingly, giving off the distinct impression that he didn't apologise often.

"Good. No more arguments then." Kathryn smiled as Ron emerged through the hidden door.

"One of the elves practically fainted when I told him that there was going to be six people for dinner." He said with a grin, settling himself on the arm of Hermione's chair. "They were like Dobby whenever you give him a new pair of socks!"

"Did Scrimgeour ask you anything?" Kathryn asked quickly, noting that Lucius pretended that he hadn't heard Dobby's name.

"He asked what we were doing." Ron shrugged. "I just said that we were talking and that he," Ron nodded at Lucius, "was asleep."

"That's ok then. Look, why don't you four go downstairs, I'll get changed and we'll follow you down in a little while."

"Whatever." Harry agreed, not giving the others time to speak. "We'll see you downstairs." The four of them stood and filed out through the secret passageway.

"Please be nice." She implored him as soon as the door had closed, sliding down into his lap.

"Only if they're nice back." He replied, pulling her close; nuzzling at the curve of her neck as one hand wormed its way beneath her shirt. "I've missed you."

"I know." She held onto him, contemplating the merits of just running away with him. Looking at it in an objective, very Hermione way, she decided that it wasn't worth the hassle or danger.

"I take it you were pleased with my birthday gift." He said, fingering the stones around her neck.

"They're beautiful," she smiled, "and I'm honoured that you think of me in such a way."

"Nothing more than you deserve."

"I doubt that many others would agree." She shook her head. "Not now."

"I don't care. Look in the bottom desk drawer." He motioned, pushing her gently off his lap with a mischievous smile. With a dubious feeling, she opened the drawer to reveal several boxes within.

"You shouldn't have." She chastised him. "You spoil me."

"I don't care."

"Other people might." She told him rather sternly. "I am forever under scrutiny. They will question where the money comes from."

"That is none of their business. Besides, I thought you were rich enough."

"I know it's none of their business and yes, I am rich enough on my own but no one, save my friends, knows that I am living here." She explained. "If they knew that I was living here and that I had guardianship of the estate, there would be a call for the estate and your fortune to be turned over to the Ministry."

"I've told you already, they could never do that." He reassured her. "Just open them." Smiling, she undid the ribbon that held the first parcel together and a copious quantity of velvet, the intense colour of red wine, spilled out onto her lap.

"Such a Gryffindor colour." She commented wryly as she unfolded the dress. "An interesting purchase for such a well renowned Slytherin," she smirked, "but, other than that, it's beautiful." It had a v-neckline from where the material wrapped around at the front and long full sleeves. It was very elegant, yet simple in design. She laid it out on the back of a chair.

"Don't say things like that," he replied jokingly, "I'm coming round to the thinking that typical Gryffindor brashness is a useful thing."

"For your information, it's called courage and without it you would be back in Azkaban right now."

"Well, it's a useful trait." He slid across the sofa and pressed his lips to hers. Craftily keeping her occupied, his hands made light work of the buttons down the front of the shirt she was wearing and swiftly moved to the waistband of her pyjamas.

"Not now." She protested meekly as he tossed her pyjamas aside. "They're waiting."

"There's time." He murmured, slipping off his own.

"No there's not." She gasped, unable to move thanks to his weight on top of her.

"There's always time." He smirked, moving her legs to afford himself a better position.

"What if they come back?" she tried to reason with him in the moment he stopped kissing her.

"They won't." He pulled one of the cushions down behind her head. "They won't risk it." He murmured, trailing kisses all over her. By that point all she could do was gasp or moan in response. Every kiss and touch was undoing her and he was touching her in all the right places.

"Please." She gasped into his ear as his teeth nipped lightly at her neck.

"God I've missed you." He gasped back.

"You're making me ache." She pleaded again, her nails digging into his back.

"As you wish." She dearly hoped that no one, especially Dawlish and Scrimgeour, heard them. She was quite frankly surprised that they hadn't fallen off the sofa, he was working so vigorously. These were, however, the last thoughts in her mind as she felt her muscles clench and the delicious pain that had been building up was finally relieved.

"Missed you too." She gasped, pecking him on the cheek as he pulled away. "But now we really have to get dressed for dinner."

"Alright then." He threw her the shirt that he had tossed across the room as he pulled his own pyjama bottoms back on. She noted the disappointed look on his face as she opened the hidden door.

"There'll be plenty of time for that later too." She smirked, holding out her hand and beckoning him to follow her.

"Promise?"

"Have I ever not?" she asked him, raising a questioning eyebrow. Smiling at the prospect, he followed her through the passage, pocketing an envelope from his desk as he passed.

Scrimgeour and Dawlish hadn't appeared to have moved an inch since she last saw them when she stepped out of the doors in her new dress.

"Where are you going dressed like that?" Scrimgeour demanded at once, springing to his feet.

"Dinner." She shrugged.

"Dressed like that?" Scrimgeour cast a critical eye over her outfit.

"What does it concern you?" she replied haughtily. "The last time I checked, you weren't here to give me wardrobe advice." Apparently unshaken, Scrimgeour continued.

"Where is he then?" he asked fiercely.

"Asleep, where he has been for the past few hours." She answered with a disinterested shrug. "Check if you like."

Warily, Scrimgeour pushed open the door with his wand drawn, Dawlish in the same stance right behind him. All they saw was the blond, lying in the bed facing away from them.

"Fine." Scrimgeour said in a petulant tone, apparently annoyed that he had found no trace of an escape attempt. Shaking her head, Kathryn walked away as they closed the doors once more, a wicked smirk playing across her face.

Back in the bedroom, once the doors were firmly shut again, Lucius slipped from beneath the covers fully dressed. Brushing the creases out of his shirt and pulling on his jacket, he walked straight back to the passage they had just used and hurried through to his study. Not stopping, he went into the drawing room next door and, after an expert touch, disappeared behind one of the walls.

The stairs were small and rickety, not made for humans to use; children maybe but not fully grown men. He fumbled his way down in the dark hoping that the stairs would not break beneath him due to their state of ill repair thanks to less than frequent use. After what seemed like an eternity of twists and turns, he emerged from a concealed door in the downstairs parlour. Dusting cobwebs off his jacket, he walked towards the sound of voices coming from the back drawing room.

He found it odd that he, Lucius Malfoy, would be having dinner with Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley. Dinner with Kathryn Potter, yes, but had he been told that he would be dining with all of them, he would have laughed back in their face. From what he had gleaned from the few newspapers he had been able to acquire in Azkaban, Potter, despite his hero status, shied away from the media attention. He and his friends were, apparently, elusive and no one even knew where Potter lived. The Dark Lord had become increasingly frustrated as time had worn on. The Potters, their friends and their blasted Order had been undetectable throughout the war. Well, all of them bar one. He shuddered to think what would have happened to him had his Master found out how easily he could have had one of the pair.

He would have been honoured beyond his wildest dreams for being able to bring the Dark Lord one of the Potters. His position would have been unquestionable. The only thing better would have been if he had brought the pair.

Horrible images assailed his mind of what could have happened as he caught sight of her talking and laughing with her brother and friends. The masked and robed Death Eaters standing in an unyielding circle around her form. All of them laughing as their Master sent curse after curse her way, prolonging her pain as long as possible. As the one who had brought her to the Dark Lord, he would have probably been allowed a bit of sport with her as a reward. Any time up until their one year 'anniversary', he would have relished such an honour; employing his skills masterfully for the twisted enjoyment of his fellow Death Eaters. After that, however, and he wouldn't have been able to do such a thing. He'd have sooner gone to Dumbledore than let that happen.

Her body lifeless and broken; limbs at odd angles with cuts and bruises marring the otherwise perfect surface. Her face, cold and pale, lying on icy flagstones with a trickle of blood running from beneath her hairline. Her hair, matted with blood and tangled, fanning around her head. Green eyes devoid of their fire, leaving only emptiness and pain. All these images that he had prayed that he'd never have to see.

He felt his heart skip as she smiled at him, reaching her hand out ever so slightly and beckoning him to come over. He looked at her as he walked. The dress was perfect on her; wrapping around her body in just the right way. He imagined what it would have been like were things different, were she Pureblood. She would have been exalted as the luckiest person ever to have won the affections of such a wealthy and influential man, not treated like a criminal for daring to love, for daring to differ.

Her outstretched had caught his, pulling him closer towards her. He obliged, wrapping his arm across her waist and kissing her lightly on the cheek as he came to stand behind her. He saw anger flash in her brother's eyes for a second, his face remaining impassive. This did not, however, deter him for he understood what she was trying to do. She was going to force them to accept him as her choice, and understand that they could do nothing to change it.

"I see you made it down the stairs then." She said with a smile, brushing a cobweb off his shoulder.

"I doubt I'll want to again, seeing as they're not really built for human use."

"You'd rather have Scrimgeour and Dawlish watching you while you eat?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "You'd rather not be able to speak freely or go where you please in your own home?"

"Touché." He replied. "Why do your arguments always win?"

"Because mine are right," she smiled back at him, "most of the time." She added with a smirk. She could tell that the rest of them were uncomfortable with watching this exchange and swiftly changed the subject. "Dinner?" she asked them with a smile. She got four enthusiastic nods in response and she led them back through the entrance hall, being careful not to alert Scrimgeour and Dawlish that he was downstairs, and through to the dining room.

Harry watched curiously as he paused for a moment and, with a cursory glance down at the girl walking beside him, offered her his arm. With a smile and an amused shake of her head, she accepted and they continued on through the house. Harry found it unnerving to witness such small, intimate gestures between them. True, he had caught them at their most intimate, but this was different. These were the gestures of a pair completely accustomed to each other; that understood the other without either having to speak. Ordinarily, Harry would have thought this endearing. But considering what he had done to his sister, it was quite sickening that she could still be near to him. He did not voice this however, preferring to see his sister happy than have her miserable.

The dining room was cavernous, as they had noted before; the table apparently enlarging or shrinking to suit the number of guests. Harry was surprised to see him pull out Kathryn's chair for her before he sat down; he had never expected someone so proud to do such a thing. He and Ginny were sat on one side of the table with Ron and Hermione on the other. He and Kathryn were seated at the opposite ends of the table; places that Harry understood to be reserved for the master and mistress of the house. Harry could see that this was not only an indication of what she had practically become, but also of the regard he held for her, and he was sure that this had not slipped past Ron, Hermione or Ginny either.

There was no question that she was comfortable living here. Harry had seen many times before that she was at ease in the Manor; she lived in its rooms as if she had done all her life. She seemed to know every nook and cranny which, to Harry, spoke of a much deeper relationship than any of them would like to believe she had. As they ate, Harry noticed that she seemed to understand his every minute expression and gesture. She expertly steered the conversation away from the more sensitive subjects and made sure that neither party went as far as to insult or argue with the other. It seemed that both parties had taken heed of her earlier warning and stuck to polite conversation; Lucius even going as far as to enquire after their plans for the future.

"I seem to recall the notion that you may apply to the Auror office being mentioned." He commented. "Am I right to assume that you still intend to take the same career path?" he raised a questioning eyebrow at Harry.

"Yes."

"Do you not think that, perhaps, there will be little for you to do now that the Dark Lord has fallen?"

"Couldn't the same be said for you?" Harry replied casually.

"Of course," Lucius took this jibe graciously, continuing nevertheless, "but I am currently living at Cornelius Fudge's pleasure whereas you have a free reign over your future. My point is, haven't you had enough of dark wizards for the time being?" Kathryn smiled to herself, knowing that he definitely had a point.

"It appears to be what we're best at." Harry explained.

"Well, from what I've seen, you are also good at Quidditch." He nodded at Harry and Ron. "The pair of you are."

"And your point would be?" Harry asked with a quizzical look.

"You could easily play for England or, if you so desire, instigate the Chudley Cannons resurgence." He suggested with a wry smile, remembering her tales of Ron's never ending allegiance to the Cannons. "And I believe Miss Granger has every possible avenue open to her, at least, once your exam results arrive." Kathryn was actually surprised to see Hermione blush at such a comment from a man so known for his hatred of Muggle-borns.

"And what of my sister?" Harry asked as dessert was placed before him. "What kind of future can she look forward to?"

"Harry please don't." Kathryn asked her brother, setting her fork down and giving him a pleading look.

"No, I want to know." He continued, staring Malfoy out as he spoke. "What kind of future will she have?" he asked. "Who will even consider trusting her once this mess is over? Who will give her a job?" Kathryn tried to interrupt him but he just kept going. "Do you think that she even has the slightest chance of being accepted into the Auror office now?"

"Harry, I forfeited that option quite a while ago." Kathryn snapped suddenly at her brother. "Along with peoples' respect."

"No." He protested. "They may still accept you when this is all over. Once people know what happened."

"Accept but not trust." Kathryn corrected him. "Accept but not respect. Accept but not forgive."

"But if you have done no wrong!" Harry continued, trying in vain to win the debate.

"It will make no difference. I will forever be seen as a traitor no matter the true version of events. It does not matter that I helped save the world; I will be vilified all the same for one choice."

"Well it was a bad choice." Harry shot back in an unforgiving tone. Down at the other end of the table, Kathryn saw something flare in Lucius' eyes and she knew Harry was in for a lot of trouble. Instead of the angry outburst she had expected, however, he merely cleared his throat and stood up.

"Would you excuse us for a moment." He said in a curt tone that was not a question, but a command. The four of them nodded, all looking rather worried, and exited the room in silence. Kathryn did not meet their eyes as they left; instead staring down at the miniature sponge pudding that she had gone off eating. At the last moment, Harry looked as if he was about to say something else, maybe even apologise. This was met, however, by an icy glare from Kathryn as she gracefully stood and breezed over to gaze out of the window at the far side of the room.

She looked out of the windows, across the rolling lawns on that side of the house and towards the fields in the distance, until she heard the click of a lock and Lucius came to stand behind her. Hands ran slowly down her arms and took her hands in his; his arms pulling her closer until she was flush against him. They stood in silence for a moment, his head resting gently at her neck until she turned her head and met his lips.

"What your life must be like." He murmured apologetically into her hair. "What you must have suffered."

"Don't worry about it." She murmured back. "I have a thicker skin than some think."

"You shouldn't have to though." He persisted. "You should be the last person they criticise at every moment they get, I mean, have they even acknowledged you as one of the two who finally killed the Dark Lord?"

"Once," she nodded slowly, "just after the battle, as soon as the news broke." She explained. "But at that point it was only a rumour. It was the day after that photo appeared on the front page that they had a fuller picture of what actually happened. I noted that my name was skilfully omitted from that account."

"They will acknowledge it eventually. Once everything is cleared up."

"But they will never forgive me." She sighed. "And no one will ever forget."

"You never know, humanity may surprise us."

"It doesn't matter really. I'll just not read the Prophet and become a recluse!" she laughed. "But then again, I'm not going to let a scandalised public ruin my life."

"Still, you shouldn't have to bear what you already have done." He repeated; wrapping an arm around her waist as they walked towards the doors where she was sure Harry would have been trying to eavesdrop.

Outside, Harry could hear the sound of voices coming closer and, as the lock clicked, he jumped back to a reasonable distance. Seconds later, the doors opened and the pair of them exited; his arm firmly, almost protectively, around her waist as they walked.

"I'll say this again Harry," she said as they walked through the entrance hall, "do not fight and do not ruin one of the few happy moments I have been allowed over the past months." She told him in a stern, but calm voice. Harry nodded in response but remained silent, afraid he might snap at him again. They remained in silence until they reached the large drawing room at the back of the house. Kathryn slipped out of his grasp and grabbed Harry's arm before he could go in. She motioned for the rest of them to go on ahead of them whilst the stayed in the next room with Harry.

"I need a word." She told him, shutting the doors to the drawing room behind her.

"Look, I'm sorry I said that." Harry told his sister. "I just can't help it."

"Don't worry." Kathryn shrugged.

"It's just going to take some getting used to."

"Harry, please understand," she said in a near whisper, "I know that you would gladly kill him if you got the chance. I know that you cannot understand what has happened to me. I know that you hate him," she hesitated for a moment before continuing, "but please understand that I can't."

"That's what I don't get," Harry explained, "I can't understand how you cannot hate him for what he did."

"It has gone so far beyond that now." She sighed. "But I do not know where I stand."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know what I am to him and I have certainly never told him where I stand with all of this." Kathryn explained. "I mean, nothing's ever been said."

"You mean you don't even know how he feels?" Harry couldn't believe this.

"No." Kathryn shook her hair with a sad look on her face. "I may never know, I mean, he's so protective of things people may use to hurt him; like me."

"And what about you?" Harry asked. "What do you feel?"

"I don't know." She sighed. "But he will be the first to know. I don't care if he's in Azkaban, I'll make the journey to tell him." Although Harry did not necessarily support her view, he had to admire her for sticking to her guns after all the abuse that had been thrown at her.

"Well, just know that we'll stand by you whatever happens." Harry finally said after a few moments of awkward silence. "I know we might not agree, but we've been through a war and it would be silly to fall out over something like this."

"Oh Harry," she sighed, flinging her arms around his neck, "thank you. I've waited so long for you to say that." She held on for a few moments longer before beginning to laugh. "How prosaic do I sound!" she laughed, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye.

"You sound like a trashy romance novel," Harry laughed, "please stop it, it's quite scary!"

"Sorry, I'll try not to do that again! Shall we go back in then?" she motioned her hand to the door. "And thanks Harry." She gave him a small nod before following him through the door.

It appeared that Lucius still knew how to play host as there was a silver tray complete with coffee pot, teapot and bone china cups already laid out on a table. Catching his eye, he jerked his head in the direction of a side cabinet full of glasses where an open bottle of her favourite Australian red was sitting. Smiling at him, she ignored the tea and coffee that Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny were helping themselves to; instead pulling out two large glasses and filling them generously.

"Are you sure you should be having more to drink?" Hermione asked as Kathryn settled herself on the arm of Lucius' chair and handed him his glass.

"I don't see why not." Kathryn shrugged.

"Well, you've already had a few glasses with dinner," Hermione said rationally, "and that's practically a bottle."

"I see no problem."

"Well, it's a bit much for one night." Hermione persisted.

"In view of what I could drink, it's not." Kathryn brushed off Hermione's comments. "I could bypass the wine and go straight to the Firewhisky." She took another drink. "I mean, you've seen the stores here, but I'm not going to get into a discussion about this." That firmly ended the discussion and the topic of conversation moved on.

They were surprised to find him quite a lively conversationalist and, once they forgot who he was and what he had done, he was quite good company. They dispersed after a little while; Harry and Ron having a game of billiards in the next room whilst Hermione and Ginny went for a gossip in the gardens.

"See," she said with a smirk, sliding into his lap, "That wasn't so hard now, was it?"

"No, although for your brother and friends, they are quick to say that you are wrong."

"They only care." She sighed, entwining her fingers with his. "This has been hard for them to accept, especially for Harry."

"They stand by you though, don't they?"

"Of course, although only after I explained everything to them, and even then Harry was still hostile." She explained. "They have kept secrets for me though, about what is in this house; the books, the cellar playroom, the graveyard in that wood. They haven't told a soul at my request." She slipped from his lap and walked to the door. Without a word, he stood and followed her as she slipped out of the doors; their guests unlikely to notice their disappearance.

They walked slowly, side by side, through the house; just enjoying each others company. They wandered through the entrance hall and into the drawing room next door to the cavernous ballroom. Opening the door, Lucius peeked inside before shutting the doors again.

"Close your eyes." He asked with a small smirk on his face.

"What are you up to?" she asked, closing her eyes all the same.

"Nothing." Flinging open the doors, he waved his wand and instantly the grand chandelier in the middle of the ceiling flared to life. With another wave of his wand, the dust lifted from the floor and the room seemed to glow with life once more. Taking her hands, he led her into the centre of the room.

"Open your eyes." Doing so, a gasp immediately escaped her lips as she saw the room in all its splendour. She had only ever seen it in daylight, and it was nowhere near as amazing as it was now.

"And what was your purpose to bringing me here?" she laughed, kissing him softly.

"To dance, why else?" he smiled back, pulling her close. Laughing, she let him lead her over the polished wooden floors with practiced ease.

"My, my," she laughed softly as they danced, "who would have thought the proud Lucius Malfoy romantic?"

"Not one of the qualities I am renowned for." He admitted. "And not regarded favourably in my previous circles."

"Well, I don't care who or what the Wizengamot sees." She kissed him softly. "This is the man I see." Unbeknownst to them, Hermione and Ginny had caught a glimpse of the pair whilst walking in the gardens and had immediately rushed, pulling Harry and Ron away from their game, to peer in through the door.

"The man you see is as good as condemned." He told her, slowing their dancing to little more than a standstill.

"Not if I have any say in that." she corrected him sternly. "But there is the possibility that my testimony will do you more harm than good." She admitted, finally voicing the sad truth.

"We'll see." He murmured, putting his forehead against hers and staring deep into her eyes. He chuckled slightly as he watched the pupils move in and out of focus.

"What?" she asked with a smirk.

"I think you've had a little too much wine!"

"Don't let Hermione hear that." She giggled. "I've got enough on my plate without her worrying about whether or not I'm an alcoholic." He followed her as she sank down to sit on the floor. "Besides, I like the light headed feeling, and I'd be more worried about me getting depressed than anything else." She sighed, her eyes growing distant.

"It can't be that bad." He said from his position opposite her, lightly caressing her hands with his.

"Some days I don't even get out of bed." She confessed, hanging her head. "I mean, I have spent my entire life in hiding and I thought that I would at least be able to walk down a street without having to worry about anything."

"True." He sighed. "I never wanted to put you in this position. You are a hero and deserve peoples' respect, not their hatred."

"I accepted this fate." She reminded him. "I knew that there would be no going back. I've known that ever since you said that it was the final time you would ask me to tell you anything." she smiled at him, leaning closer. "And I haven't regretted a moment." She whispered in his ear.

"I have something more for you." He told her, slipping the envelope from his pocket, returning it to its normal size, and handing it to her.

"What are you up to?" she asked, fingering the envelope and quirking an eyebrow at him.

"Just open it."

"Fine." She slid her finger beneath the flap and tore it open, pulling out a piece of parchment. Looking at it, it appeared to be some form of legal document. In large script at the head of the page, the words 'Title Deed' were written.

"What is this?" she asked him, bemused.

"The deeds to the land where your parents' house is, in Godric's Hollow." He explained. "I bought it, under your name, because it should belong to no one else."

"You did this for me?" she asked, awestruck, with tears welling in the corners of her eyes.

"It seemed like the right thing to do. You have precious little of them to begin with…" Without saying any more, she flung her arms around his neck; sending him sprawling onto the floor. Tangled in her arms, he lay there for several minutes whilst she kissed him.

"You have no idea how much this means to me." She murmured between kisses that he soon began to return.

"I do have some indication." He smirked, gazing deep into her eyes. "But I would advise you to stop, as we do not want your brother or your friends walking in on us, do we?"

"I don't care!" she replied with an identical smirk, working her hands beneath his shirt. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny immediately backed away from the door and retreated to the drawing room.

"Would you rather you attracted the attention of Scrimgeour or Dawlish?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. "I did notice that Dawlish could barely keep his jaw shut around you, not that I mind that you have that effect on people." She slapped him playfully on the arm, sitting back up and straightening her dress.

"Fine, besides, the floor isn't as comfortable as some other places I can think of." She stood and took his hand before walking back to the drawing room where the four of them were sitting waiting. Without a word, she handed the envelope to Harry and let him inspect the contents.

"Why?" he asked. "What do you hope to achieve by doing this?"

"Nothing." He shrugged. "It is a gift and, if you'll note the date on which it was acquired, this was planned long before recent events transpired." Looking down at the parchment, Harry saw that the date was halfway through May.

"Well, thank you, although I hope you don't expect us to live in it."

"Certainly not, I just thought that would not like to see a part of your history destroyed." Harry couldn't believe his ears.

"Well, thanks again, but we should probably be heading off." Harry added, glancing at the clock. "You know your mum," he told Ron, "She'll have us up at sunrise."

"Yeah." Ron nodded in agreement. "Thanks for having us though." He told Kathryn. "And we'll see you tomorrow I guess."

"Yeah." She nodded. "Looking forward to that." She added sarcastically. She hugged Hermione and Ginny goodbye before turning to Harry.

"Take that to show Sirius," she told him, "and Lupin. I'm sure they'd appreciate it."

"Don't give the gruesome twosome too hard a time." He reminded her, hugging her tight. "At least, no more than they deserve."

"Promise, I'll only retaliate if absolutely necessary!" she smiled wickedly; leaving Harry to imagine what she might do if they pushed her.

"Just make sure they're still alive in the morning." He followed Ron, Hermione and Ginny into the next room where they were going to use the fireplace to Floo back to Grimmauld Place. Lucius made to follow him but a hand on his shoulder stopped him from going any further.

"You can't," she told him, "you can't hear."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know what charms are still in effect, you know, protecting where we live. Well, where Harry, Sirius and I live." She explained. "Even with everything over, we still want to keep it as secret as possible just because it is one of the few places where no one can find us. That's why Harry, Ron and Hermione like coming here, because they can relax."

"The Dark Lord was always angry that we could not find where you lived or where you hid your headquarters." He admitted.

"They're one and the same." She revealed. "You can know that now we no longer have to fight."

"What do you mean?"

"Harry and I live at the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix." She explained. "That is why you could never find us. It's as heavily protected as Hogwarts and then some. We've lived there since we were fifteen." She started to wander through the house, towards the dining room.

"You mean you've been in the Order of the Phoenix since you were fifteen?" he asked in disbelief.

"Not technically, but we always knew most of what was going on." She shrugged, pausing before the section of wall in the drawing room which concealed the cache of his more potent potions. She selected one and closed the compartment.

"How do you know which one that is?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. "And, if you do know which one that is, what are you up to?"

"I've identified them all." She replied with a knowing smirk. "And I know that a couple of those are actually illegal; but what Fudge doesn't know won't hurt him, unless I slip it in his tea of course!"

"Where did you learn to be so devious?" he followed her through to the kitchens where the house elves immediately snapped to attention.

"Well, I had a lot of practice at Hogwarts, and I had a good teacher." She nodded at him before turning to the nearest house elf. "I need you to make two mugs of strong coffee." She instructed it. "Then add three drops of this potion to each and take them up to the two men upstairs." She handed the elf the small crystal vial.

"Isn't three drops a bit much?" he queried her, not wanting to overdose the two Aurors.

"No. It will send them out until about ten tomorrow morning though."

"Just making sure because, whilst that is a fairly unobtrusive potion, it is not undetectable and I would not like to wake up to a pair of comatose Aurors and have to explain what happened." They watched the two mugs of coffee leave the kitchen on a silver tray, waiting a few moments before heading back upstairs too.

"What am I going to say when they realise I got past them?" he mused as they walked slowly.

"You'll think of something witty." She shrugged as they rounded the corner to where Scrimgeour and Dawlish were standing with their coffee.

"I took the liberty of sending you some coffee." She told them brightly.

"Thank you," Scrimgeour began, looking up at her, "how did you get out?" he asked, spotting Malfoy; his eyes widening in shock and almost choking on his coffee.

"Magic." Lucius replied dryly, not failing to notice the way Dawlish was leering at Kathryn as she stood beside him. "And Dawlish," he addressed the Auror in a belittling tone, "need I remind you that you look and I touch." He smirked as Dawlish blanched. "If you do need to look, do so in a respectful and unobtrusive way, not like a dog ogling a piece of meat." Both men before them looked quite stunned then, quite suddenly, their eyes rolled back into their heads and they collapsed onto the floor.

"Good." Kathryn sighed, stepping around them as she opened the door. "I don't like an audience." Smirking, she shut and locked the door behind them.

* * *

A/N - Need I tell you how fun it was writing that last paragraph or so!! Her dress is inspired by one Eva Green wore to the Premiere of Casino Royale...I saw it in Vogue and thought it was perfect!


	60. Chapter 60

A/N - Dawn breaks on a rather significant day...enjoy reading and please be so kind as to leave me a review!!

* * *

His arms were around her as soon as the lock clicked shut.

"As good company as your brother and friends are," he murmured between kisses, "this is definitely the highlight of the evening."

"Nice to know I'm appreciated." She smiled, kissing him back before pulling away. "Don't sulk," she laughed as his face fell, "I'll be back in a moment." She disappeared into the wardrobe and emerged moments later in a skimpy negligee made of deep, Slytherin-green silk.

"Even better." He smiled appreciatively, drawing her back into his embrace, his hands immediately slipping beneath the silk. "Although you do know I'll be taking it off pretty soon?" he reminded her with a smirk.

"And there I was thinking you would want to rest." She told him in a tone of false surprise as she pushed his shirt off his shoulders.

"Oh, so you would rather I rest." He replied in a petulant tone. "Even when I was going to spoil you so outrageously?"

"I though it was you who deserved indulgence?" she asked with a raised eyebrow as he kissed her neck. "You are, after all, the one that's locked away on an island prison in the middle of nowhere."

"Are you too not imprisoned?" he reminded her. "It may be a manor house, but it is still a prison no matter how grand it is."

"At least mine has heating."

"I have not had to bear the attacks of a scandalised media or the fury of an angered public." He countered.

"Fine, you win," she conceded, "I, for some strange reason in your twisted brain, have it worse than you."

"Now may I spoil you?" he asked with a smirk, although he would do it none the less.

"Yes." She sighed, giving in and allowing him to carry her over to the mattress.

She was quite glad she had decided to dispose of Dawlish and Scrimgeour for the night as, even though she would have liked to make them very uncomfortable, she wouldn't have liked the rumours that would fly about after what they would have overheard. She was anything but quiet as he pushed her over the edge again and again. She was quite surprised at the restraint he showed too, focusing more on pleasuring her whilst ignoring his own desires. This did not mean he completely ignored them, however. Her back arched in ecstasy one final time before he rolled off her and, wrapped in each others arms; they drifted off into the deep recesses of sleep.

She was supremely content that night as she slept; comforted by the warm body that lay next to hers. She was not plagued by nightmares or insomnia as she lay nestled in the crook of his arm. Similarly, he was allowed a complete night's rest; uninterrupted by other inmates howls or incessant muttering. He had, so far, managed to keep his sanity by clinging onto his memories of her. He buried the happy memories deep, hiding them from the scabbed hands of the Dementors as they glided past his cell.

They were woken early in the morning by the sun shining through a gap in the heavy curtains. The backs of his eyelids burned red and, after a few moments trying to ignore it, he opened his eyes to gaze blearily at her. Rubbing sleep from the corners, he watched her for a few moments before venturing to the doors. Opening them a fraction, he could see the two Aurors were still lying where they had fallen the night before and showed no signs of waking any time soon. Smirking at her ingenuity, he locked the door, pulled on his pyjamas and made the quick trip through to his study.

She was awake when he returned, her hair falling in long, unkempt waves over her shoulders and her eyes still blinking in the morning light.

"Good morning." He greeted her jauntily. Sitting down on the mattress and leaning over to give her a quick kiss.

"There's nothing good about it." She groaned, crashing back onto the pillows and pulling the covers over her head.

"Are you sure?" he asked, slipping beneath the duvet to find her.

"Yes." She said resolutely, turning away from him.

"Positive?" he asked again. "Cast your mind back, you may remember." He suggested.

"Well, it is," she paused, realising what he meant, "it is two years to the day since, you know." She turned back to face him. "Maybe it is a good day after all."

"Told you so." He murmured, pulling her close.

"Well, it's a good day apart from that other thing that starts at eleven." She corrected him.

"Apart from that." He flung the covers off and kissed her hungrily.

"What are you doing?" she asked with a laugh as he pulled her across the mattress to the middle of the bed.

"Breakfast." He smirked, trailing kisses along her neck and collarbone. Impeded by her negligee, he pulled it over her head and continued his journey down. She giggled as his hair tickled her stomach, a giggle that swiftly turned to a moan as his tongue started drawing circles in all the right places.

"I like this kind of breakfast." She moaned softly as he moved back up and found her lips again.

"Pity it's a rare treat." He murmured as her hips arched to meet him.

"They're going to take you away again." She whispered back. "I know."

"I'm so sorry, about everything I have put you through." He went on, his lips grazing the hollow of her throat as he spoke.

"It's not your fault." She shook her head, a tear rolling unbidden down her flushed cheeks.

"I feel responsible."

"You're not." She gasped; her head lolling back as she saw stars behind her eyelids.

He was careful to prolong her pleasure as they lay there, their limbs intertwined.

"None of this is your fault." She repeated as he pulled away and wrapped his arms around her waist. "It's pointless playing the blame game now." She kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Besides, I wouldn't trade the time I've had with you for anything."

"Even when this all began?" he asked; steely grey eyes boring into green.

"Well, we didn't get off to the best of starts." She admitted. "But it got better."

"It did." His teeth nipped at the skin of her neck and she found herself, quite perversely, hoping that he left a mark.

"And I don't care what people say about me or about you." She reassured him, her finger drawing lazy circles on his shoulder. "You grow quite impervious to those sorts of things after a while." She groaned as he moved away again, pulling on his pyjama bottoms and dressing gown. "What now?" she moaned, burrowing back beneath the covers.

"Breakfast," he smirked, "for real this time." Giving an exasperated sigh, she pulled on her own nightie and dressing gown, and followed him out of the doors. Dawlish and Scrimgeour were still flat out on the floor and did not register their dressing gowns brushing against them as they walked.

"Dear me," Kathryn muttered, shooting the pair of them a hateful look, "asleep on the job. Obviously overworked." She laughed as they walked downstairs, her arm linked through his.

If she had thought the house elves a little over zealous when they had eaten yesterday afternoon then they had gone completely overboard with breakfast. There was enough food for about six people laid out and far too much choice for you average meal. With a grin, Lucius piled his plate high and began to tuck in. Se could understand this, as who knew when he would next get a proper meal? She waited whilst the teapot poured her a cup of steaming liquid and then began to nibble on a pastry. He cast a glance at her as he took his second helping of toast and, with a frown, set down his fork.

"Is that all you're having?" he asked, inclining his head at the half eaten pastry on her plate.

"I'm not really hungry." She shrugged, taking a sip of tea.

"You haven't eaten since eight last night." He pointed out. "You must be famished."

"Not really." She picked at the pastry a little more. "The prospect of the day ahead makes me lose my appetite."

"Well, you tell me that I've got thinner but you can join that club too." He raised an eyebrow at her. "Don't think I didn't notice that you've lost weight."

"I've been busy, sometimes I forget to eat."

"The last thing you need to be is malnourished, especially with what you are going to go through in the next few weeks." He argued.

"I'm not malnourished."

"You're thin."

"Then what would you have me eat?" he did not reply, instead waving his wand and sending a plate full of food to replace her half eaten pastry.

"Fine." She picked up her fork and began to eat whilst he watched her like a hawk. "But you still have to eat too." She smirked when she noticed that he hadn't picked up his fork again. She did finish her plate and then sat waiting whilst he consumed enough food for about three people.

"Well done," she commented as he finally set down his fork, "you have just exceeded Ron's record for most breakfast eaten in one sitting!"

"Hey, I might just be able to survive of that meal for a week." He pointed out.

"I would send you food parcels but I doubt that they would even allow me write to you, let alone come and visit you." She remarked glumly, finishing off her tea.

"And I somehow doubt that they would let me near a quill and a piece of paper lest I tell you what goes on up there." He shrugged. "They want you to lose all hope. That's how they keep people subdued, I mean, with some of them they needn't lock the doors to the cells."

"So if some were faking it they could just walk out?"

"No, there is still a human workforce up there. It's impossible to evade the Dementors though. I have a wizard guarding my cell all the time, I think they learned something after your godfather escaped."

"I suppose I could sneak onto the island. Who would notice a wolf wandering around a barren island?"

"Nothing survives there; the little wildlife there was gave up a long time ago. Besides, even if anyone ever did get out of the gates, it is next to impossible to get across to the mainland. I wonder at how your godfather even managed."

"He was innocent, that makes a lot of difference." She reminded him with a smirk.

"Oh yes, shame I'm not in the same situation."

"Innocent until proven guilty." She uttered the old phrase. "Besides, you have done some redeeming things. I mean, you didn't hand me over to Voldemort." She reminded him. "And you said that we were dead."

"Yes, but then again, I did use you like my own twisted plaything."

"Everyone gets used." She shrugged. "It's an inevitability of life."

"Not like that."

"Well, I know-" she didn't get to finish her sentence.

"No one should ever go through what I did to you." He interrupted her. "I mean, I wanted to break you. I wanted to make you suffer."

"Oh, I assure you I did." She told him in a dry tone. "I couldn't stand the guilt at points. Why do you think I ran away to Paris for that week?"

"I have to confess that you surprised me." He revealed as she stood up and walked for the door. "I didn't think that you were strong enough to outlast it." He followed her out of the dining room and back up the stairs.

"Neither did I," she admitted, "but I suppose people adapt."

"I thought you would be easy to destroy."

"I'm made of much stronger stuff." They walked past the still comatose Dawlish and Scrimgeour. "Besides, I only think that I managed to survive because things changed." She slipped the dressing gown off her shoulders and, with one swift movement, had pulled her negligee over her head and let it land on the floor. She disappeared into the bathroom and he heard the jet of a shower against tiles not long after. He thought for a moment, before following her in to the bathroom.

"What do you want?" she asked as he sidled up behind her.

"Nothing." He replied casually, his hands beginning to knead the tense muscles at the back of her neck.

"So why do I suspect that you have an ulterior motive?" she asked as his hands worked lower.

"I don't know." He smirked, turning her round and catching her lips before she could say anything else.

"That would be why." She commented when he finally pulled away. "You do know that you are defeating the object of having a shower?" she went on as he backed her up against the tiled wall. She shivered as her skin came into contact with the cool, damp tiles but this only made his smirk broaden.

"The water won't go away." He shrugged, lifting her up so she had no choice other than to wrap her legs around his waist. "Just be careful not to bang your head on the tiles," he told her, pretending to be offering a good piece of advice, "we can't have you with concussion now, can we?"

Eventually, the pair of them ended up entwined on the tiled floor of the shower as the warm water beat down on them. As she lay there, she was very tempted not to hand him back to the Aurors once they got to the Ministry. She might have given him a shock, but she did not expect Fudge to so willingly give in over the subject of Lucius' treatment in Azkaban. Still, she could hope; a life spent under the shadow of Voldemort had taught her that you should never give up hope, no matter how dismal things seemed.

"Really," she murmured, disentangling her arms from his, "we need to be getting ready."

"Do we have to?" he asked in a childlike voice, trying to pull her back down

"I'm afraid so." She gave herself a quick rinse under the warm shower before wrapping a towel around herself. "And I somehow doubt the Wizengamot would agree to having you placed under house arrest just so you can be with me."

"Not even if you ask nicely and bat your eyelids?" he asked with a laugh.

"I think that would only make me look worse. Besides, house arrest is technically what I'm still under." She wandered through into the wardrobe and began picking out clothes. She pulled on some underwear whilst he fished out a fresh, crisp, perfectly cut suit.

"Fresh clothes are quite a novelty." He remarked as he pulled on the trousers, noticing how they hung slightly looser on his frame than they had previously. "What are you wearing?" He turned round to look at her, now standing in Slytherin-green French knickers and bra, and considering three outfits.

"Don't get excited." She scolded as he raised his eyebrows.

"That will be quite a task if you intend to only wear that." he smirked as he buttoned his shirt.

"Oh you wish you were so lucky." She smirked back. "It's either the green dress," she pointed to the first hangar, "The blue one," she pointed at the second hangar which held a dress that he distinctly remembered taking off her, "or that." she pointed at the third.

"The third." He told her without hesitation.

"Isn't it a bit too, well, too you?" she asked, unsure of whether it was the right choice.

"No. It is all you and it will make a statement. I think the Ministry should understand that you mean business."

"Alright then, just remember you have to give me back your wand before we go out those doors." She reminded him. "I don't want to find myself being accused of giving you a wand because that'll just make my life worse." She opened a drawer and threw him his favourite pair of cufflinks; two large, dark emeralds set in platinum.

"Thanks." He slipped them deftly through the holes.

"I'm taking them back when this thing is over though." She warned him. "You're not taking anything that valuable to Azkaban because it won't come back. Now," she rooted around in a different drawer, "what jewellery should I wear?"

"How about this?" he summoned the box he had brought through from his study earlier. Giving him a curious look, she opened it to reveal a necklace and earring set of rich, dark emeralds set in platinum. "I thought they'd suit you quite well."

"How many more birthday gifts are you going to produce before you leave?" she asked as he fastened the clasp of the necklace.

"No more, although if you want all of your gifts you should look in the bottom drawer of my desk."

"You spoil me." She told him with a raised eyebrow, kissing him on the cheek. "But I don't mind."

"Good," he smirked, deepening the kiss, "because I wouldn't listen if you did complain."

"Stop." She told him in a tone of mock severity. "You can't arrive looking creased, what will people think?"

"They will all be jealous because, to put it bluntly, I get to bed the most beautiful girl to come out of Hogwarts for a long time."

"Take that back or I'll let Dawlish and Scrimgeour take you back instead of me." She warned him with a frown.

"That's what people will think." He shrugged. "I mean, you saw Dawlish's face."

"I hate it when people look at me like that," she shuddered, "it just makes me feel cheap."

"Please know that I don't think of you like that." He reassured her. "You are so much more than a pretty face." She could tell from the look in his eyes that he wasn't lying. "And only I get you all to myself."

"Don't worry," she shook her head, wrapping her arms around his waist, "I'm not about to move out," she smirked; "Fudge wouldn't let me!" she pulled away and slipped a few things into a small dark green velvet bag.

"You do like living here, don't you?" he asked, worried that she had meant that she was only living here because she was forced to.

"Of course I do," she said with a smile, "you didn't take what I just said seriously, did you?"

"Well, you did sound serious."

"I know it's not the London apartment that I thought I'd be living in and I'll admit that it does get a little lonely, but I wouldn't swap it." She used a few pins to pull her hair away from her face as he pulled on his jacket. "My only worry is what happens if they let Draco out."

"What do you mean?"

"I've read the papers that I signed and I consulted your lawyers." She told him, slipping her feet into a pair of green heels. "Technically, if he is released by the Wizengamot, my claim of guardianship over the estate is null and void."

"Are you sure?" he couldn't believe that he had missed such a large loophole.

"Yes, I've checked the documents." She told him sombrely. "The way it is written, it implies that I have guardianship of the estate only if both you and your son are indisposed. If Draco walks free, however, the manor is technically his again."

"He won't be let off."

"He has before, if you'll remember." She reminded him. "You got him off the hook for letting Death Eaters into the castle in sixth year. All he needs to do is convincingly play the same card and he could walk with nothing more than a slap on the wrist."

"How long have you been thinking about this exactly?" he asked, as it sounded as if she had been giving this a lot of thought.

"A while, I've had plenty of time to think." She shrugged. "And I know that, if he does get away with it, he will not react well to me living here."

"I take it that you will fight any attempt he makes to save his skin."

"Well, yes, but, if I fail, I am instantly in danger. Technically, I cannot stop him. And, if he has been able to read the newspapers, he is not going to like the woman that has been termed his father's whore living under the same roof." She strode back out into the bedroom, gathered up her wand and tucked it safely in her bag.

"I can see where that would be problematic. Remember though, he doesn't have me to get him off the hook this time." He followed her through and picked up his cane. "You are most certainly not a whore." He finished resolutely. "And I will cause severe trouble for anyone that calls you such."

"Well, yes, but they haven't set a date for his trial yet so I do have some time."

"I guess I should give you this back." He held out his cane to her.

"You can have it until we get to the Ministry." She told him with a smile. "I'll hex Scrimgeour if he tries anything."

"All right then." He followed her to the doors.

"Take a last look around." She told him in a glum tone, her hand on the silver door handle. "I doubt Fudge will let me get away with this twice so who knows when you'll be here next." Opening the door, she found Scrimgeour and Dawlish sitting against the wall looking slightly groggy.

"Where are you going?" Scrimgeour immediately asked in a hoarse voice.

"Check the time gentlemen," she said in a dry tone as she swept past, "we're due in courtroom ten in an hour and a half."

"What did you do?" Dawlish asked in an accusatory tone.

"I, Dawlish, did nothing. It's not my fault that the Ministry is overworking you. Now, I have a proposal for you." She smirked. "You let me travel to the Ministry in peace and I won't let it slip that you fell asleep on duty." Scrimgeour looked as if he was about to protest but then gave a nod of his head in agreement. He did not want to think about the damage the revelation that he had fallen asleep whilst he was supposed to be guarding Lucius Malfoy, would do to his career.

It was a perfect summer day outside as they stepped out the front door. If truth be told, she would have much preferred to spend the day sprawled out on a blanket on the lawn instead of giving evidence. She was certain that, as soon as she had a free day, it was going to rain.

"Why do life's painful experiences have to happen on beautiful days?" she mused as the car rolled up. "Is it nature's way of saying 'ha ha, in your face'?"

"It is summer," he reminded her, "it could just be the weather and nothing more."

"True," she said with a smile, "but I prefer to think of it like that." She sank smoothly into the car seat whilst he held her door open. "Besides," she went on as he took the seat beside her, "I'd rather be spending my summer without the relentless media scrutiny."

"Even if this hadn't been discovered, wouldn't you still be living with constant media attention?" he pointed out as the car moved smoothly off.

"Well, yes, but that media attention would have been positive as opposed to slander." She remarked dryly.

"You never know, after the next few days, the press may suddenly change their mind."

"Yes, but if Rita Skeeter has anything to do with it," she reminded him with a frown, "she will have the whole of Britain behind her to push the Wizengamot to give you, a brutal rapist and Death Eater, the Dementor's Kiss."

"Ah, well, that bridge is yet to be crossed." He looked as if the possibility unsettled him and, usually, nothing worried Lucius Malfoy.

"Yes, until then," she slid across the seat and into his lap, "I can think of better things to do on a car journey."

"Minx." He said with a smirk as she kissed him.

"Oh you know you love it." She shot back as his hands slipped beneath her clothes.

It was in a slightly dishevelled state that they arrived in the dingy alleyway that held the visitors entrance to the Ministry. They stood in the alleyway for a few minutes whilst they rearranged their clothes; Lucius ensuring that she looked pristine whilst she did the same for him. With an almost ceremonial air, he handed his cane back to her.

"Don't worry," she reassured him, "hopefully it won't be for too long." She gave him a quick kiss before walking over to the phone box. As with the day before, she announced why she was there, collected the badge and then waited as the phone box descended. He took the opportunity to give her one last, private, kiss before they returned to being very much in the public glare.

The atrium was a lot busier than it had been the previous day. Of course, she had expected that the announcement she had put in the Prophet would draw a large crowd. She could make out several photographers in the hall as well as Rita Skeeter, dressed to the nines in a lime green suit to match her Quick Quotes Quill. People gave them a wide berth as they walked. They did not stop as they reached the security desk and, with one contemptuous look, Kathryn threw her badge at the same wizard who had been there the day before. She was aware of Lucius' arm moving to rest around her waist as their pace increased and she saw the scandalised looks of the people milling around, pretending not to be watching. Their stride was interrupted, however, by the appearance of Scrimgeour and several uniformed members of the Magical Law Enforcement Department.

"My turf, my rules, Miss Potter." Scrimgeour whispered as he walked up to her. With a nod of his head, the uniformed wizards following him surrounded Malfoy and began to lead him away.

"You couldn't resist could you?" she asked Scrimgeour, raising her eyebrows. "You love to feel like you have the upper hand." She grabbed Lucius' elbow to stop him from going anywhere.

"Please allow us to do our job, Miss Potter." Scrimgeour asked, looking as if he was trying to be as civil as possible.

"Fine." She pulled Lucius towards her and kissed him, full on the lips, without any care that the entire atrium was watching.

"Play nice." He whispered to her with a smirk.

"Not likely." She muttered darkly, releasing her grip on his sleeve and allowing the uniformed men to lead him away.


	61. Chapter 61

A/N - And thus all is laid bare.......

My apologies for my absence...I have had a criminally bad case of writer's block and haven't been able to decide where things are going. I have a rough idea now though so hopfully it won't be as long between chapter updates. Thanks very much to all those who have reviewed or added this to their favourites list, all feedback is much appreciated. So, here is chapter 61 (and 62 to follow), I hope you enjoy it!

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Kathryn stared sadly after him as he was led away to one of the waiting elevators. She didn't notice the people closing in on her until a flashbulb went off right in her face. Her blank expression quickly turned to a scowl as they began shouting questions at her left, right and centre.

"What is your relationship with Lucius Malfoy?" one cried.

"How long have you been involved?" She slowly began to push her way over to the stairs.

"Did you pass information to the Death Eaters?" she began to feel claustrophobic as people tried to stop her getting away.

"How do you feel about the criticism of your actions?"

"Where is your relationship going?"

"What about the age gap?" she made it to the stairs and practically ran down them; concealing herself in an alcove just in case they followed.

She stayed there until the clock reached eleven. Only then did she make her way down to the courtroom. It appeared that everyone had already gone in and, through the doors, she could hear, above the chatter, Fudge asking for her to come forward. Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the heavy double doors and strode forwards into the courtroom.

The entire room turned their heads to look at who had arrived, Lucius straining against his bonds to do so. Harry, looking at his sister, thought that she should have some kind of terrifying, powerful fanfare to accompany her entrance. Everything about her demeanour and dress spoke of power and, he guessed, was meant to convey that she meant business. She was wearing a pair of fine woollen trousers and a matching waistcoat of a green so dark that it looked almost black in the dim light of the courtroom. Lucius smiled when he realised she had indeed contracted the services of Mr Argorosso in the time she had spent confined in Malfoy Manor. Beneath this was a black shirt that was open at the collar, following the deep v-neckline of the waistcoat. Harry was sure that he could see, just poking out from beneath her shirt, a purple bruise that looked suspiciously like it had been left by teeth. A necklace of dark emeralds rested around her neck, with matching earrings and cufflinks in her shirt. Tucked under one arm was a small green bag and in the other hand was the infamous, serpent topped cane.

Her heels rapped across the stone floor as she walked and Harry could see that many of the people in the room were mesmerised by her, their eyes following her every move. Harry noticed that, as she passed the chair where Malfoy was chained down, her hand brushed slowly across his and an unspoken look of understanding passed between the two of them. Harry could tell that, as she walked up the flight of steps that led to where she was supposed to stand, she did not want to do this. He knew that what she was going to say would probably do him more harm that good, but Harry admired his sister for doing it anyway. Harry also noted the look she gave Rita Skeeter, sitting in the front row of the benches opposite, her Quick Quotes Quill poised and ready and her long, talon-like nails gleaming in the torchlight. Her look was one of pure venom; almost daring her to falsify what she was about to say

Kathryn's heart was hammering so hard in her chest that she was sure everyone else could hear it as she stood and faced the Wizengamot. She felt very exposed on this pedestal; everyone was looking down on her from their high benches. Keeping her face impassive, she stood and waited for Fudge to speak.

"Miss Potter," after what seemed like an eternity, he addressed her, "do you solemnly swear that everything you say will be the truth and nothing else?" she did not answer for a few moments, giving Fudge an appraising look.

"I can see no profit in lying." She replied dryly.

"Please answer yes or no." Fudge told her brusquely.

"Yes." Her voice was curt and did not conceal how much she hated the man she was looking at.

"And you are here to answer our questions as to what passed between yourself and the accused, Lucius Malfoy, yes?"

"Yes."

"And also to provide your defence to the charges of treason and passing information to Death Eaters that have been levelled at you?"

"Yes." Harry saw her eyes flash with anger at those last words. Considering what she had done for the Order, and that she had helped finally destroy Voldemort, it was quite an insult to have herself being labelled a traitor.

"Right," Fudge shuffled his papers in front of him, "let us begin with your activities exactly two years ago today, the twenty third of August."

"As you wish." She took a deep breath and began her story. "On the twenty third of August two years ago, I told my brother, godfather and my friends that I was going to stay with a friend of mine in France." She explained. "But I lied. I had decided to have a snoop around the Malfoys Wiltshire home to see if I could find anything out. As you probably know, I was a member of the Order of the Phoenix, and I wanted to do something useful instead of just sitting around headquarters all summer."

"Were you even aware of how dangerous this was?" one of the Wizengamot asked.

"I was well aware of Mr Malfoy's credentials as a Death Eater, but I was certain of my own capabilities to stay hidden and defend myself if necessary." She responded curtly. "Anyway, I slipped into his grounds without using magic as I assumed that he would not be expecting intruders that did not use magic. I was right, and I was able to traverse the grounds quite easily."

"How is that you were not seen?"

"I had witnessed Mrs Malfoy and her son leaving the manor earlier that day and I knew that it was only Mr Malfoy that remained in the house. I had also waited until nightfall so that I would not be spotted."

"As fascinating as these details are, Miss Potter," Fudge addressed her again, "please explain as to how you ended up in the situation we observed yesterday."

"That would come sooner, Minister, if you did not interrupt me." She retorted, her voice pure venom. "You asked me to explain so that is what I am trying to do." She waited for this to sink in before continuing. "I could see a light on in one of the upstairs windows so I climbed up the wall to see what it was. It was only Mr Malfoy in his study and I was going to watch for a while until my foothold gave way. As you can imagine, trying to save myself from the equivalent of a four or five storey fall, I made a sufficient amount of noise to attract Mr Malfoy's attention."

"And what was your reaction to being discovered?" one of the female members of the Wizengamot asked.

"I ran." She replied, speaking as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "What else was I supposed to do?"

"Apparate." One suggested.

"Apparition is not so practical when you are clinging onto a stone wall that is liable to give way if you make any sudden movements. Apparition also needs concentration, which I was unable to provide when I realised that I had been seen and Mr Malfoy was now in the process of trying to stop my escape."

"So how is it that, even though you were, as you say, confident in your abilities to defend yourself, you were so easily captured?"

"I ran the wrong way." Kathryn shrugged, trying not to get annoyed at the people questioning her. "It was dark and I had no idea where I was going. Instead of running back to the fence I had climbed over, I ran straight into Mr Malfoy." There were several astonished gasps in the rows of observers. Kathryn supposed that they had not imagined such a version of events and their imaginations had created a much more sordid account of events.

"Did you make no further attempts to escape?"

"With a wand you knew capable of performing the killing curse in an instant pointed straight at me, I was not inclined to attempt such a thing."

"Now, Miss Potter, we saw the following events yesterday, but we would still be grateful if you would tell us what happened so that we may have your version of events." Fudge went on. Harry, Ron and Hermione were amazed that he was going to make her tell what happened in front of all these onlookers. Taking another deep breath, Kathryn began to speak again.

"What is there to tell?" she kept her gaze fixed on Fudge as she spoke. "I was removed of my wand, coat and shirt because I had sewn several maps into the linings in case of emergency and was then kept chained in the cellars of Malfoy Manor for several hours thinking that I was going to die."

"Surely you were not so pessimistic about your situation?"

"I knew his reputation as a Death Eater as well as the respectable reputation he presented to the public eye." She reminded the Wizengamot dispassionately. "With such knowledge I was not inclined to think that there could be a positive outcome of the situation."

"So you did not even consider trying to escape?"

"No." Her answer was firm. "I could not see a good outcome of any such attempt as I was without a wand and locked in a room that had been sealed with an anti-disapparation jinx. Do not think I didn't try to get out of there." Harry smiled when her recognised her tone as one similar to the one Snape frequently used when addressing him. "My imagination was satisfactorily equipped to understand what could happen to me at that point. I knew that I might end up dead, but I also understood my value as a captive and, judging by Voldemort's previous assertions," there was a collective shudder as she spoke his name, "I could see how it would be more advantageous to have me alive." She could see that several of the observers were surprised at how blasé she was about the fact that she could have met her death that night.

"Did this prospect not worry you?" a portly, balding man on the Wizengamot bench asked her.

"I have faced death before." She reminded him. "You get used to it after a while."

"So, instead of killing you," Fudge asked in a laboriously slow voice, taking pleasure in the discomfort and embarrassment he was about to inflict upon her, "what did Mr Malfoy do to you?" he fixed her with a curious look that implied that he had no idea. Where he was sat, Lucius was furious and wanted to strangle Fudge for what he was about to do.

"You saw yesterday." Kathryn snapped at him, trying to keep her face impassive.

"What you showed us yesterday was a memory," Fudge told her haughtily, "you must verbally explain what happened for it to have any bearing whatsoever." It was painful for Lucius to watch her. He could see how she was struggling to actually voice what he had done to her two years ago as, although she had never admitted it, she was ashamed of it.

"I was," she said quietly, "that is to say he, well, he," she could not get the words out properly.

"Spit it out girl." Fudge demanded brusquely.

"I suppose you think it is easy to admit that something like that happened to you?" she challenged Fudge, her eyes burning with anger. "You think it an easy task just to say those words."

"Miss Potter, please answer the question." Fudge asked coldly, not looking her in the eye.

"He," she took a deep breath, trying not to think of the damage this could do to the man chained in the chair before her, "he raped me."

"Just once?"

"Multiple times, over a week."

"Anything more?" Fudge asked, knowing that she was bound by her word to tell them what else Malfoy had done to her.

"He tortured me." She admitted. "Threatened to let other Death Eaters; Antonin Dolohov and Rabastan Lestrange to name but two, to have their turn with me."

"And did he?"

"No."

"So no one else knew that you were there?" Fudge clarified. "What about his wife and son?"

"They did not return to the house." She explained. "And, as I had told people that I would be in France, I was not missed."

"Forgive me if I seem to be asking you to repeat what you showed us yesterday, but, if deprived of you wand how did you escape?" Fudge asked, obviously trying to avoid another embarrassing telling off from her.

"I didn't." Many of the people sat in the gallery appeared to be stunned by this revelation. "He let me go. He returned my wand to me and took me to London early one morning."

"Just like that?" Fudge asked sceptically.

"The threats against my friends and family had already been made." She specified. "Mr Malfoy made it very clear very early on what would happen to the people I loved were I to tell anyone."

"Why did you say nothing?" an elderly woman asked from the bench. "Surely Mr Malfoy couldn't have found out had you only let your brother, godfather or Dumbledore know."

"I was terrified." Kathryn said slowly. "I knew his reputation and wasn't in a position to doubt what he would do."

"But surely his returning you to London was the end of your relationship?" the same woman asked.

"We didn't have a relationship." Kathryn snapped. "And, with the parting words 'I'll see you at school', I knew that this was anything but over."

"Forgive me asking, Miss Potter," Fudge began, although he didn't look sorry in the least, "but were you a virgin at the time of this incident?"

"And what bearing does that have on anything?"

"Just answer the question."

"I was busy helping fight a war." Kathryn stated. "I hadn't time for boys or adolescent fumbling."

"A simple yes or no will suffice."

"Yes." She snapped tersely.

"Thank you." Fudge motioned to his fellow members of the Wizengamot to continue with their questions.

"So, Miss Potter," the portly man continued, "after that, when did you next see Mr Malfoy?"

"The first Quidditch match of the season."

"When was that?"

"The end of September."

"And what happened then?"

"His son had injured me in training the day before," she explained, "I was unable to play and I encountered Mr Malfoy in the stadium whilst I was trying to find a seat."

"And what happened?"

"Nothing." She shrugged. "He invited me to sit with him in one of the teachers boxes."

"And you agreed? After what he had done to you?"

"What else could I do?" she asked him. "He had me cornered and my arm was in a sling."

"Did anything untoward happen?"

"He cornered me after the game." She admitted. "And confirmed my view that he saw me as only an object he could use for his own pleasure." Looking down at Lucius, she tried to convey how much it hurt her to do this.

"And you lied to your friends about this?"

"Yes."

"And the next meeting after that?"

"The next Quidditch game. Mid-October." She supplied. "I was, again, injured and I bumped into Mr Malfoy as I was walking out to the pitch."

"And, as before, did anything untoward happen?"

"No." She shook her head. "He was kind. He carried me up the stairs because I couldn't walk properly."

"Did your brother not suspect anything? Or your friends?"

"No. I was a Prefect, I passed off what I did as my duty as a Hogwarts Prefect. Mr Malfoy was a governor, as were the rest of the people I sat with that day. It would have appeared very out of place had I been rude."

"Why did, as you put it, think that Mr Malfoy saw you as someone he could use?"

"I think that is obvious."

"Answer the question Miss Potter." Fudge interjected in a terse voice.

"I think the answer to that question is obvious considering who I am." She shot back at Fudge. "But as you do so enjoy concise explanations, I will oblige you." Harry had to admire the way she was handling this and he had to fight back a smirk as she continued. "At that time I was, and still am, one of the Potter twins. Voldemort wanted us dead because of a prophecy made years ago." There was a great deal of muttering at this statement. "If someone like that just walked into your grasp, as Mr Malfoy once described it, you do not let go. I was a member of the Order of the Phoenix and had lived at the Order's headquarters since I was fifteen years old. I was a veritable mine of information that would be of use to the Dark Lord." She paused for effect. "Only he had to break me first."

"And that was your understanding of why he chose to do this?"

"Yes."

"So after this encounter, when did you see him next?"

"On our first Hogsmeade weekend." She replied without hesitation. "It was half way through November."

"And where did you meet him?"

"We didn't meet, he found me." She said coldly.

"And what did you do?"

"He made me apparate beck to his Manor." She explained. "He tried to get me to tell him Order secrets. I mean, he must've thought that my fear of the consequences would persuade me to yield. When I didn't he, well," she paused, again trying to work up the courage to say the words a second time, "when I didn't, he, he had his way." Muttering again broke out in the benches, true she had not stated explicitly what had happened, but the meaning was clear.

"Was your absence not noticed?" the man asked curiously.

"No, I usually went off for walks on my own when we went to Hogsmeade so my absence wasn't noticed. I got back to the village at quarter to six and I got back just before the gates were shut."

"And what did you tell your brother and friends as the reason for your lateness?"

"I told then I'd gone for a walk and had gotten lost." She replied without hesitation, knowing there was no point trying to hid the fact that she had lied mercilessly to her brother, godfather and friends for two years.

"Why did you lie?" he asked inquisitively; asking the question everyone in the room was burning to know.

"I was afraid." she said quietly. "At that point fear outweighed reason."

"Very well." The man nodded and he motioned for one of his female colleagues to take over.

"Now, Miss Potter, as I understand it, the next time you saw Mr Malfoy was at the ball held at Hogwarts over the Christmas holidays that year. Am I right?" this woman had a kindlier face than most and she appeared to voice her question more politely than others had.

"You are."

"Would you please be so kind as to explain the course of events surrounding that meeting?" Kathryn was grateful that someone was finally being polite.

"The day Mr Malfoy returned me to London," she began, "there was an item waiting for me when I went to get my school things in Diagon Alley. It was labelled 'do not open until Christmas Day' and, after receiving a bouquet of flowers from the Hogwarts Governors, I recognised the writing as his."

"So you kept the item even after you realised it was from Mr Malfoy?"

"Yes."

"Might I enquire as to why, considering what he had already done to you?"

"I was curious," Kathryn shrugged, "and it was from a clothes shop so I didn't think that it could be anything adverse."

"And what did you find when you opened that parcel on Christmas Day?"

"It was a dress," she replied, "nothing more, nothing less."

"And was there any note with the dress?" Kathryn cast a quick glance at her friends before answering.

"Yes," she nodded, "but I hid it from Harry, Ron and Hermione when I found it in the box."

"What did it say?"

"It just said Merry Christmas," she told the courtroom, hesitating over whether to tell them what was on the other side of the card, "on the other side it said that I was to consider myself taken for the ball."

"And you consented to this? After what he had done to you previously?" Kathryn liked the way this member of the Wizengamot was going about her questions. She was being given to opportunity to speak freely with few interruptions.

"I was more afraid of what would happen if I refused." She stated plainly.

"Why did you not return this, er, gift?"

"Well, that dress must have cost in excess of seven hundred Galleons and I wasn't going to turn that down, not even if I hated the person that had given it to me."

"Just why, exactly, did Mr Malfoy purchase you that dress?"

"Because, as he put it, he wanted the best looking girl on his arm." She said dryly.

"Was there any other reason you were not inclined to refuse?"

"He was polite," she said with a shrug, "quite the gentleman."

"Anything more?" Kathryn realised that she was referring to the necklace.

"Well, he did put about four hundred carats of diamonds around my neck." She said coolly. "As well as one hundred around my wrist and fifty in my ears." She finished.

"Just like that?" the witch asked, astounded.

"Yes, apparently they were a Christmas gift, at least, that's what I discerned when he said Merry Christmas."

"Why did you not return these?" she asked curiously.

"I was brought up to think it impolite to refuse gifts." Kathryn replied. "Also, what nineteen year old girl would turn down a gift like that? I don't want to sound selfish by saying this, but it almost gave some consolation for what he was doing."

"So he was, in effect, making it worth your while?"

"I'm not sure that it was intended that way, but yes, in a sense he was."

"Thank you." She motioned for one of her colleagues to continue the line of questions. The man that took over was thin and balding, with a very large moustache and set of eyebrows that appeared to compensate for his lack of hair on his head. He had large, square glasses with a thick, brown rim which made his eyes appear twice their normal size. All Kathryn could think that he and Professor Trelawney would go together quite well.

"Now, Miss Potter," he had a thick, nasal voice that Kathryn knew was going to irritate her, "after the Christmas break when did you next meet Mr Malfoy?"

"Early January."

"And for what reason?" he asked inquisitively.

"He had arranged a week's work experience for me at the Ministry because I had mentioned it at the ball over Christmas." She explained.

"And was it actually work experience?" he asked, clearly doubting what she said.

"Yes, although he did manufacture a situation in which to spend time with me."

"And that was?" he raised his formidable eyebrows at her.

"The Quidditch World Cup qualifier that England played against Australia in Dubai." She replied. "We left on a Friday evening so my absence would not be suspicious, as I was not expected at the Ministry on a Saturday or Sunday."

"Did you know of your destination before you left on that evening?"

"No, I was just told to pack for somewhere hot."

"And what did you tell your Godfather, Sirius Black?"

"I lied," she said simply, "I told him that I had been asked to fill in for a secretary on a business trip and that I would be gone for a few days."

"Did you feel no guilt at lying like that?"

"Guilt?" she said incredulously. "Guilt? Do you honestly believe that the fact that I was lying so much wasn't destroying me inside? I couldn't stand it."

"But you admit that you did lie?"

"Of course I lied! What was I supposed to say?" she retorted harshly. "Oh yes Sirius, I'm just popping off to Dubai for the weekend. Oh, by the way, I'll be staying with Lucius Malfoy. I'm sure that would have gone down well." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm of the highest quality and Harry couldn't help thinking that she sounded almost like Snape did when he was really angry.

"What happened after you returned from Dubai?" the wizard asked, changing his tack of questioning. Kathryn spotted Fudge's face pale slightly as he realised that he was going to become involved.

"I returned to Mr Malfoy's manor, along with Minister Fudge, for dinner." There was a sudden outbreak of muttering in amongst the stands.

"And did Minister Fudge notice anything?"

"No."

"Did it not seem odd that you were apparently staying with Mr Malfoy?"

"Minister Fudge knew that we were staying in the same hotel and that Mr Malfoy had invited me, but nothing else. Minister Fudge also received an urgent message after dinner and had to leave immediately." She explained. "He asked Mr Malfoy to ensure that I got home safely, but other than that, to him nothing seemed amiss."

"And what happened after Minister Fudge left?"

"My position was reaffirmed by Mr Malfoy. As you saw yesterday, he made it quite clear where I stood."

"Now, Miss Potter, I am aware that some photographs appeared in the Sunday Prophet of you and Mr Malfoy at the Quidditch match."

"They did."

"And did your friends not find this odd?" he asked curiously.

"I lied." She replied simply. "I told them that I merely ran into Mr Malfoy at the match, not that he had invited me."

"And, might I ask you what you were wearing at the match?"

"It was a black dress, one of my own, although I do not see the importance of this question." She responded curtly.

"It is not your dress I refer to, Miss Potter, but the object around your neck." his moustache curved into what she supposed was a smirk.

"Ah yes, once again Mr Malfoy had procured some jewellery for me."

"And that was?"

"Two hundred carats of pale blue, pear shaped diamond." She told the court. "One of the rarest diamonds in existence, due to its colour and brilliance. I did my research."

"Yes, well, so do we." He said in a self satisfied tone. "That diamond was cut from a rough stone of four hundred carats." He read from a piece of parchment. "The cut stone was purchased three years ago by an unidentified buyer for the record sum of thirty million Galleons. The other stones went for fifteen million Galleons to the same anonymous buyer."

"Your point being?" her stomach was doing somersaults at the figures.

"It was recorded entering an unspecified Gringotts vault, although due to privacy reasons Gringotts cannot disclose the name of the account holder or the number of the vault. It was then recorded being removed from said vault a little over one and a half years ago." The wizard looked down at a page of notes before him. "There has been no mention or sight of that diamond since. No jeweller in England has admitted to it passing through his hands and it has not appeared on the market, it is quite a mystery as to where it went. "

"That's because it is in my top dresser drawer." She shrugged.

"Excuse me?" there were several shocked gasps from the benches around the hall.

"That necklace, and the earrings and bracelet made from the other stones, have been in my possession since Mr Malfoy laid them around my neck." She took a deep breath. "I have been in possession of forty five million Galleons worth of diamonds. They have been with me all through my time at Hogwarts, and during the summer holidays."

"Did you never question the value?" he asked in disbelief.

"Never, although I was knowledgeable enough to know that such finery would not have come at a low cost, the figure you present is a surprise to me." She spoke honestly, trying not to convey her amazement that he had spent such a sum and then given it to her as opposed to his wife.

"Have you ever worn it again?"

"Not in public."

"And in private?"

"Only at dinner that evening with Mr Malfoy and Minister Fudge." She replied shortly.

"And what would you have done, had you known their true value?" he asked curiously. "I mean, you knew that they were costly, but what would you have done, how would you have reacted, if he had told you that their worth was forty five million Galleons?"

"I would have told him that he could keep them." She answered quickly.

"Did you not see it as the ultimate means of buying your silence?" he pushed. "Was it enough to tempt you into holding your tongue?" he continued harshly, fixing her with a beady stare.

"My silence was a product of fear, not lavish gifts that were only intended to make sure that I looked good on his arm." Her voice was sharp, ensuring that the man understood that he was straying onto dangerous ground.

"And how many of these, er, gifts, has he lavished upon you, Miss Potter?" he asked, continuing his line of questioning.

"Too many to count." She responded curtly. "He has grown rather fond of spoiling me." She said with a smirk, glancing first at Lucius, and then cocking an eyebrow at the moustachioed wizard.

"And what was the last thing he indulged you with?" he asked with a cruel smile. "If you would be so good as to tell us?"

"The necklace I'm wearing now." She shrugged. "And he did purchase my parents' house in Godric's Hollow as a birthday present, both for myself and my brother." She added, hoping to indicate that he was not all they perceived.

"To what purpose?"

"A birthday gift," she shot back, "and because he thought it should belong to us."

"So he was buying your allegiance." He accused from his elevated bench.

"No."

"Well, I'm dreadfully sorry Miss Potter, but that's the way it seems."

"You are quite mistaken." She said with a cruel smirk.

"Well would you care to elaborate?"

"He does not need to buy my allegiance." She stated.

"And why would that be?"

"He already has it." She snapped. "I thought that would be obvious." For what seemed like the hundredth time that day, scandalised muttering broke out amongst the benches of seated observers.

"Why does he?" the wizard asked. "Why do you bestow your loyalty upon someone who did such horrific things to you?"

"I have my own reasons." She replied tersely.

"Why are you faithful to someone so unworthy?" he gestured to Lucius, bound to the chair. "To someone who has done such things, not just to you, but to other innocents? To someone who bears the Dark Mark upon his arm?" he gestured again to Lucius and one of the guards stepped forwards and roughly yanked up his shirt sleeve to reveal the brand beneath. "Someone who stands for everything you have ever opposed since your very birth?" Kathryn did not know what to say, he had her slightly cornered and was forcing her to voice the very thoughts that had run through her mind many times before. She had known that one day she would have to explain her reasoning behind this; explain why she had come to this.

"I made a choice." She replied shortly.

"A choice to do what?"

"If you will let me finish," she snapped, "I will explain."

"Go ahead."

"I made a choice, exactly a year ago as it were."

"And that was?"

"I decided that I was in too far to ever turn back." She explained. "That I would have to stand and be judged for what I had done."

"And what have you done?" he asked curiously.

"I do not know; you have yet to tell me what you consider my crime to be."

"Did something change?" he demanded harshly.

"I think so." She said quietly. "I became more than the abused. He told me that he was going to ask me for information about the Order one final time."

"And was it the final time?"

"It was." Apparently satisfied, he leant back in his chair and let another member of the Wizengamot take over the questions.


	62. Chapter 62

A/N - At the end of a difficult day there comes a surprise.....who would've thought he'd be one to do that?

* * *

"It appears that we have strayed from the general timeline of events." The questioning transferred back to a slightly younger woman with greying brown hair. "After the trip to Dubai, when was the next time you and Mr Malfoy encountered each other?"

"Valentines Day." She replied.

"And what did you do?"

"We apparated to his Manor and you can imagine the rest." She responded dryly.

"And after?" Kathryn's feet were starting to go numb after having spent so long standing.

"He gave me a ring, well, he slipped it into my pocket." She told the courtroom. "It was one I had seen him wear before but just resized to fit my finger." She looked down at the stone upon her right hand. "This one in fact." She pulled it off and held it up.

"What did you think of the gesture?" she asked curiously.

"I don't really remember," Kathryn shrugged, slipping the ring back onto her finger, "I suppose I thought it a kind gesture, although one that made sure that I was discretely marked as his. To be fair, I didn't think much of it, the next time I saw him was at the final for the inter-house Quidditch cup."

"And what did you do then?"

"He made a bet with me, one hundred galleons on Slytherin to win." She explained.

"But that was not the only thing he wagered, was it?" she asked probingly.

"He also promised me that, if Slytherin won, he would leave me alone. He was trying to see if I would go as far as to lose the match if it meant I could be free."

"And did you lose the match?"

"No." She replied shortly. "I would never miss the opportunity to beat Slytherin at Quidditch and I was certainly not going to give him the satisfaction of such control over me. And I also didn't want to have to pay him a hundred galleons if I let Slytherin win, it was quite a no win situation."

"So you mean to say that you would not lose a simple game of Quidditch to keep yourself safe?"

"If I had decided to lose the match, how was I to explain that to my team?" she asked. "Besides, losing might have spared me the father but I would have incurred an endless tirade of insults and humiliation from his son instead, as well as the whole of Slytherin." Kathryn could tell that she, and the rest of the Wizengamot could not believe this. "What was I supposed to do?" she asked them incredulously. "Drop the Quaffle? Shoot through my own goal hoops? I was well renowned for taking great pleasure in wiping the pitch with Malfoy's face. I suppose it was a metaphor for not being able to hex him every time I saw him."

"So you did not like Draco Malfoy at all?"

"We hate each other; present tense. Although I suspect that he now hates me with considerably more venom than I do him. I would have taken sex with the father over five minutes in the same room with the son any day." She could tell that this statement shocked people but, to own the truth, she didn't really care.

"Interesting." She mused. "I understand that there was an incident near the end of term involving Draco Malfoy?"

"Yes, he was a sore loser and nearly killed me."

"I understand that it was a close escape."

"Well, I think that saying he nearly killed me summed that up." She shot back dryly. "If had it not been for the intervention of Mr Malfoy, I would have certainly died. It was a complex curse with a complex counter curse."

"And how did you feel when you found out that Mr Malfoy was the person that had prevented your death?" she asked curiously, remembering what she had seen in the memory the day before.

"It was interesting to know what he had done." She decided that she might as well properly explain how she had felt. "I knew that he could have very easily left me to die. I knew that it would have been easy to do, but he didn't. I can't remember much, I was fairly out of it, but I remember the way he held me. It was like he actually cared about me."

"Anything more?"

"He made his son apologise and then he came and talked to me." She told the witch. "He came and talked to me because he had been worried about me. I asked him why he didn't leave me for dead and he implied that he did not want that."

"How did that make you feel?"

"It was quite strange, I didn't know what to feel." She explained. "So I ran away."

"Ah yes, that was carefully covered up."

"Well, the Order did know well not to let something like that slip. I can imagine that Voldemort would have had a field day with that scrap of information." She replied dryly. The witch nodded and passed the line of questioning on to a man with curly, but nevertheless greying, black hair and a quizzical brow.

"So why did you do it if you knew that it would cause such uproar?" his tone was that of a disapproving mother.

"Because I wanted some time alone." She explained. "I hadn't had a proper moment alone since it had happened. I had been by myself at points, but I was never in a place where no one could bother me. It is a sad by-product of who my brother and I are; we have spent the last few years under almost constant guard save the time we were in Hogwarts. We have been watched by the Order our entire lives."

"So you felt trapped?"

"No," she retorted, "I just wanted to get away for a while. Except, once I was gone, whispers of my disappearance reached certain ears and someone found me in Paris."

"And what did you do?"

"We had dinner," she shrugged, "we talked, I spent the night with him and then came home the next morning."

"In your memories," he consulted his notes, "you showed us a piece of parchment that he left on the pillow next to yours. What was the significance of the number written on it?"

"The number was how many days remained until the one year 'anniversary'." She used her fingers to indicate inverted commas when she said 'anniversary'. "And also to remind me how many days there were left for me to find another way to disappear."

"And you understood that from a number?" he did not seem to believe this.

"You make the mistake of assuming that this was like any normal relationship." She shot back. "Firstly it was not a relationship; it was more of an unspoken understanding. Secondly, he could not just say things to me in public; every comment was veiled and I had to get used to reading him by his actions and looks. It's become a skill of mine."

"That is also known as Legilimency, Miss Potter." The wizard reminded her.

"I have not mastered that yet." She replied curtly.

"You do however appear to be a very skilled Occlumens," he shot back, "having concealed your affair," Kathryn did not allow him to finish his sentence.

"I have already made it clear that this was not a willing relationship," she shot back viciously, "and therefore cannot be termed an affair as that implies that it was a mutual decision."

"Fine, you must be a skilled Occlumens having concealed what was happening for so long."

"I did what had to be done." Kathryn replied vaguely.

"Very well," he shuffled the notes before him, "you mentioned that things changed when you visited Malfoy Manor next. Would you care to elaborate?"

"Actually," Fudge cut in before Kathryn could open her mouth, "I think this might be a good time to adjourn for the day, we will need to consider what we have heard before continuing tomorrow." The rest of the Wizengamot nodded in agreement and they rose and left the courtroom. Kathryn remained where she was until most of the crowds had gone. Lucius was still chained to the chair, his guards waiting until the courtroom emptied before escorting him out. Once it was apparent that she was going nowhere, they released the bonds that held Lucius in the chair and allowed her to walk beside him at they left the courtroom.

"You did well." He said quietly to her as they walked. "You made sure that they did not push you around."

"I'm sorry for some of the things I said," she apologised, "but I had no choice."

"It's alright." He reassured her, wrapping an arm about her waist. "You were brave to even say it."

"They don't understand what it takes to be able to admit that something like that happened after you've spent so long trying to shut it out."

"You've just shut out what happened?"

"No," she shook her head, "I don't mean that. I've accepted what happened and moved on. You would have broken me if I had bottled everything up inside me."

"So that was where I went wrong." He mused with a smirk, walking slowly to annoy his guards.

"Oh please," she drawled, "you would rather have me as I am then as a broken shell of a person."

"Indeed, you are far more interesting as you are."

"You can't deny that you enjoy my company," she said, cocking an eyebrow at him, "a lot more stimulating than some of the airheads that you could have had."

"Excuse me?"

"I saw them on the Society pages of the Prophet after your wife died," she smirked, "they were all over you. Everyone was speculating as to whom you would have on your arm next."

"But you knew that they meant nothing to me."

"Oh yes, but it was funny to read all the same, knowing what I did." They were walking up the stairs now, heading towards the elevators on the ninth level.

"So what would you rather be doing, if this had never happened?" he asked in a whisper as they stepped into the golden elevator that would take them back to the atrium.

"Well," she whispered back as the elevator rattled up, "right now, I would be lying in bed," she told him, "I wouldn't have gotten up, not for anything or anyone." She leant against him and took his hand. "I would have gone for a late afternoon walk in the gardens with you, we would have had dinner by the lake and you can imagine it from then on."

"Sounds perfect." The grille rattled open to reveal the packed atrium. As flashbulbs went off in their eyes, he wrapped an arm protectively around her as they pushed through the crowd, their ears ringing with the cries form the reporters.

"I can't get you home." She managed to whisper desperately, the Aurors trying to discretely pull them apart. "They won't let me."

"Don't worry, it's only until tomorrow." He managed to murmur back. The noise in the hall stopped, however, when about six owls swooped down into the hall bearing a very large package. The crowd around them cleared as people realised that the owls were aiming for her and Kathryn was very surprised then the package landed gently in her arms. Looking down at what she was now holding, she found a bouquet of no less than four dozen red roses interspersed with about two dozen that were so dark they looked almost black. Stopping dead in her tracks, and paying no mind to the people looking at her, she turned to Lucius.

"You enjoy getting yourself into trouble, don't you?" she said in an undertone.

"I'm allowed to buy you flowers." He shrugged

"So this is what you were doing this morning." She realised. "I should have known you were up to something." The Aurors had stopped trying to separate them and merely looked on as they talked.

"I am always up to something. How did you know I was gone?"

"I notice when there's no one next to me." She shrugged. "I didn't get you anything." She added quietly, feeling quite guilty.

"What you are doing is gift enough." He shook his head. "I could not ask a more difficult thing of you, when you could so easily walk away."

"I do not think that it would be that easy for me to walk away." She murmured back. "Besides, even if I could, I wouldn't."

"I know."

"Thank you," she smiled at him, gazing at the flowers in her arms, "you know you're the only person that sends me roses."

"I should hope so." He said with a small laugh.

"So I guess that I'll see you tomorrow."

"It seems so."

"Cufflinks." She reminded him, holding out her palm. Nodding, he slipped the cufflinks out of his shirt and handed them to her.

"Anything more?" he asked dryly.

"Your cloak." She told him without hesitation. "It's a nice one and I don't want it ruined." He placed it into her outstretched arm.

"Anything more?" he sighed.

"One more thing." She replied with a mischievous smile.

"And that would be?"

"This." Stepping forwards she kissed him keenly, not caring for the people watching and not pulling away for some time. "See you tomorrow." She murmured as she pulled away. He got one last fleeting glimpse of her before she was obscured by the crowd of journalists who rushed after her, leaving the Aurors free to escort him away.

Kathryn pushed through the crowds, half blinded by the flashbulbs going off in her face, and trying her best to ignore what people were shouting at her.

"Why has he sent you flowers?" one called above the din.

"Why do you refuse to talk to the press?"

"I wonder why?" she murmured dryly to herself as she quickened her pace. She spotted Harry, Ron and Hermione watching from the far side of the room, and she hoped that they understood that she would speak to them later.


	63. Chapter 63

A/N - My profuse apologies for my prolonged absence (and a very belated happy new year!). I've been rather caught up with University work and haven't had the time I would have liked to do my writing. Here is an update (at last) to reward you for your patience. Many thanks to all those who have read and reviewed over the past few months, and to those who will read this new chapter. I will warn you now that the next update may be while away after this one but rest assured that I have not forgotten the story!!!

Happy reading!! As usual, please read and review!!!

* * *

"Do you love him?" that final question hung in the air as she closed the door of the phone box behind her. Shaking slightly, she slumped into the seat of the car and they instantly sped off.

She waved away the House Elves that appeared as soon as she stepped through the door, practically dragging herself up the stairs she was so exhausted. Setting her flowers in a vase that a House Elf had silently laid out, she set them on a bedside cabinet and then collapsed straight backwards onto the mattress.

"Who knew that standing and talking for," she checked the clock, "four hours, would be so exhausting?" she yawned, unbuttoning her waistcoat and toeing off her shoes. Pulling herself further up the bed, she sat with her back against the many pillows and cushions that were piled there and flexed her stiff legs. Reaching over to the bedside cabinet that displayed her roses, she plucked the small black envelope out of the blooms and opened it up. Inside was a plain white card with a message written in distinctive, black script.

_Do we call this one year or two? Happy Anniversary none the less._

_Lucius_

Smiling, she set the card beside the vase and got quite a shock as she found Harry's head in the fireplace.

"Boo!" he said with a laugh.

"Have you been going through every fireplace in the house looking for me?" she asked with a smirk as she slid off the bed and crossed the room to kneel on the Persian rug in front of the fire.

"No, I just flooed the kitchen and asked the House Elves."

"Well, I suppose that was probably easier, we do have many fireplaces." She laughed. "So what's up?"

"Well, I just wanted to say well done for today."

"Thanks."

"And, well, we were wondering if we could come over again and talk to you?" he asked.

"You know, you don't need to ask if you want to come over, you're welcome any time."

"No, when I say we, I mean Sirius, Lupin, Mr and Mrs Weasley, Tonks, Fred, George and Moody." He explained hurriedly. "They all want to see you, I mean, they've hardly seen you."

"Alright," she shrugged, "on one condition."

"And that would be?" Harry raised an eyebrow sceptically.

"That Moody ignores everything his magical eye sees."

"I'm not sure he'll agree, but I'll try and persuade him." Harry laughed.

"Ok then," Kathryn glanced at the clock, "you're welcome to stay for dinner of you like, just give me a couple of hours to get showered and sort some things out."

"So we'll Floo at about six then?"

"Fine, see you later."

"Bye." Harry's head disappeared and the green flames faded.

Getting up off the rug, she wandered downstairs and informed the House Elves in the kitchen that there might be a party of thirteen for dinner and that they were to set the dinner table accordingly. After that, she went back up the stairs and barricaded herself in the shower for a good half hour; determined to look refreshed and not exhausted when everyone arrived. Technically, she had planned to spend the rest of the day in her pyjamas, possibly having Harry, Ron and Hermione over for a while, but just relaxing, not entertaining. Drying off her hair slightly, she pulled on a pair of black jeans and a grey shirt that was, effectively, one of his that she had resized and re-coloured. To this she added the string of pearls that he had given her earlier that year, grabbed his cane and a pair of flat, black boots and walked out the door.

She had discovered, in her exploration of the Manor and grounds, that he actually kept stables with several fine horses, both normal and magical. There were four winged Granian horses, all a deep grey colour, presumably for pulling one of the several coaches she had found in another outbuilding. There were also four normal horses, all tall, proud animals with jet black coats and manes. She had been taught how to ride at Beauxbatons, and had spent several afternoons out riding whilst she had been waiting for the trial to commence. She had ridden them all, but her favourite was the one that had been christened Brego after a horse that appeared in Tolkien's Lord of the Rings. Cheating slightly, she used magic to put on the saddle and bridle, and she was out onto the moors behind the house in minutes.

She ended up in the hidden part of the garden, sitting with her legs dangling over the edge of the bridge as Brego had a drink beneath her. She had completely forgotten about the time and was surprised when a house elf appeared beside her with a crack.

"Excuse me Miss," she squeaked, "but I is coming to tell you that your friends is arrived just now."

"Oh, yes," she sighed, "I'd forgotten."

"I am telling them to wait in the front drawing room."

"Yes, tell them I will be there momentarily."

The elf gave a bow and disappeared with another crack. Kathryn walked down to her horse and pulled him away from the water.

"Come on Brego," she said quietly, giving him a pat, "time to go home." Mounting him again, she steered him over the bridge and in a direction leading away from the house. "But we'll take the long way back as I don't want to ruin the lawns." She said as they climbed one of the paths that traversed the slope. True to form, Brego coped easily when she urged him off the path and up the steep hill, dense with trees, which led to the wall that separated the manor from the rest of Wiltshire. With a wave of her wand, the bricks and iron railings melted away to allow them passage, only to seal again once they were through. After that, she urged him on as fast as he could go so that she didn't keep them waiting for too long.

She considered slowing to a dignified walk when she reached the gravel drive, but decided against it; instead galloping down at full speed, leaving a cloud of dust in her wake. Inside the house, Harry was looking out of the window. One of the house elves had told them that Kathryn would be coming down the front drive at any moment, so he was looking out for her.

"I think she might be here." He said to the rest of the room, who promptly gathered around the several large windows. There was definitely something coming, but Harry was sure that his sister could not be travelling that fast. His questions and, by the sounds of the gasps from other people, those of others were answered as the thing drew closer. It was indeed Kathryn, only on horseback. Her steed was as black as her hair, which was flying out behind her as she rode. She handled the animal with ease, guiding it expertly down the drive before cutting across the lawn. She slowed slightly on the grass, looking across to the house for a moment and seeing their faces in the window. Changing her mind, she pulled Brego around and headed for the front door, coming to an almost skidding stop and dismounting. A house elf appeared almost immediately.

"Your guests are in the drawing room."

"Thank you, would you please see to Brego." The elf gave a bow and went to tend her horse as Kathryn hurried up the steps.

"Well," Harry said dryly from the doorway into the drawing room, "we're quite the lady of the manor, aren't we?"

"Well, technically, I am." She shrugged, walking past him to greet everyone else. Everyone was looking at her as she walked in but Mrs Weasley was the first to move.

"Oh my poor dear!" she cried, rushing towards her and grabbing her in a bone crushing hug. "You were so brave!"

"Thanks." She managed to gasp. "But the story's far from over." She added once she had been released.

"And do we get to hear any of it?" Moody growled.

"No." she said with a sigh. "I'm not having the media, or the Wizengamot, accusing you of knowing about any of this, about being part of a conspiracy."

"But you are sacrificing your reputation, your status as a hero?" Sirius questioned her, unable to believe what she was saying, despite having heard it before.

"Did Malfoy put you up to this?" Moody demanded, clunking roughly over to her and looking her straight in the eye. "Does he think that you are his escape route? Think that you can hide everything I see?"

"He made no demands of me." She shot back in an acerbic tone. "And he has made it perfectly clear that I am free to walk away at any point."

"Then why don't you."

"Because I don't want to." She spat, turning on her heel and storming out the door.

"Alastor!" Mrs Weasley scowled at Moody who did his best to look sheepish, his magical eye whizzing madly in its socket.

"Kathryn, come back!" Harry shouted after her as she stormed up the stairs.

"If all I am going to be is berated then I see no reason to return." She shouted back.

"Oh Alastor," Molly chided Moody as Harry followed his sister, "why did you have to say that? She's going through a hard time and we are supposed to be supportive."

"I'm sorry Molly," he shrugged, "but I just don't understand it. Do you have any idea how much it riles me to be able to see what this house hides and not be able to say anything? How much it annoys me to be a guest in this house, a house I'd sworn never to set foot in unless it was to seriously injure the man?" they had, by this time, joined Harry where he was standing before the large double doors with the crest carved into them.

"Oh my goodness." Mrs Weasley said in a small gasp. "Does she actually sleep in here?"

"Oh yes," Harry said dryly, "as well as other things."

"Too much information mate." Fred groaned, clapping his hand over his eyes.

"Yep, I didn't need to have that on my mind." George added, acting in exactly the same way as his twin.

"I heard that." Kathryn's voice sounded from the other side of the door.

"Are you coming out?" Harry asked tentatively.

"Only if I can do so without inviting more criticism." Harry shot Moody a warning look at this demand.

"Promise."

"The door's open." Harry turned the handle and pushed the door slowly open. Kathryn was sitting on the bed, changed out of her jeans and riding boots into a pair of relaxed grey trousers that matched her shirt.

"Right," she sighed, turning around to face them, "let's start again."

"We thought you did really well today." Sirius began. "I think the editors of the Prophet are going to be kicking themselves after all the editorials and general rubbish that they've been publishing."

"They'll still do it." She shrugged. "They'll still do it until something changes their mind, like a verdict. Besides, after tomorrow, they're going to have even more to throw at me."

"And what might that be?" Lupin asked interestedly.

"Oh no, you get to wait in suspense like everyone else for the reasons I said before." She said with a small smile and a wag of her finger. "I know it's annoying but it's for your own benefit."

"Well, you have a good place to stay hidden from the press." Tonks added. "That must be a plus. I mean, I knew that my Aunt had married into considerable wealth," she said, referring to Narcissa, "but this is obscene. How much land do you actually have?"

"Four thousand acres." She replied coolly, as if it weren't that big a thing. "It's the largest private wizarding estate in the country."

"You must own half the county!" George exclaimed in amazement.

"Not quite half," she shrugged, "but a fair portion. Stonehenge was on Malfoy land but it was gifted to the Ministry for its preservation."

"What about Muggles?" Hermione asked. "Doesn't it annoy him that Muggles live, farm and walk across his land?"

"He told me that he didn't really care," she shrugged, "so long as he has the house, grounds and a reasonable distance between himself and any Muggle settlement he doesn't mind. The Ministry sees that this is kept to; liaising with the Muggle government and everything."

"You certainly seem to know an awful lot considering that the land isn't even yours." Mr Weasley commented.

"I am Mistress of it for the moment," she explained, "and I am responsible for it. Besides, there has been little else to do. I know many of the Manor's secrets. Secrets that I believe the Auror office would have killed to know." She added with a smirk.

"That's nice to know." Tonks said, sounding rather cheesed off.

"Oh, I would have told you," Kathryn replied apologetically, "it's just that, since I am the guardian of the estate, anything discovered would be my responsibility and I am not willing to endure further hassle from the Ministry."

"To be fair, I'm not sure that I'd like to know the secrets this house hides."

"I don't think anyone would." Before the conversation could progress any further, a house elf appeared with a crack. "Yes?" Kathryn asked as he gave a low bow.

"I is coming to inform you that dinner is ready." He squeaked, twisting his spindly fingers in the tea towel he wore.

"Thank you, we will be down in a moment." Giving a bow so low that his long nose grazed the rug, the elf disappeared again. Sliding off the bed, Kathryn walked to the doors and everyone followed, quite eager at the prospect of dinner.

"How do you cope with the portraits?" Sirius asked as they walked down the grand staircase. "From how my darling mother treats guests, I can imagine this lot giving you a pretty rough time."

"None of them have ever spoken to me." She shrugged, never having considered this before. "He normally covered the portraits, like you do with Mrs Black, whenever I was here. I doubt that he wanted them whispering to his son, or his wife for that matter."

"I'd imagine not."

"I'm not sure what they think actually," she went on, "I'm not sure whether they consider it beneath them to talk to me. Most turn away when I walk past."

"What about the house elves?"

"They're fine with me," she said with a smile, "they pretty much all know me and they don't seem to see me as an intruder."

Dinner passed without incident, Moody managing to refrain from further comment as they ate chicken wrapped in Parma ham with new potatoes and salad. The things they discussed were trivial, like her early conversations with Lucius used to be, not touching on what was going to happen at the trial tomorrow. Kathryn was sat at the head of the table and she was sure that no one missed the reference to her status at the present time, despite the fact that she was not seeking to make a point. She took them to the upstairs drawing room, next door to his study, after dinner as she could sense that more conversation was wanted. There was already coffee and tea set out in silver pots when they walked through the door. Whilst everyone else helped themselves, she crossed to a sideboard where a bottle of her favourite wine sat, uncorked and waiting, along with two simple, elegant glasses. Sighing, she left one empty and filled the other.

To her surprise, Hermione made no comment as she sat down in a chair and gazed into the velvety liquid. She was brought back out of her reverie when Mrs Weasley asked her a question for the third time.

"So why did he send you flowers, dear?" she asked. "I mean, I assume that those roses were from him."

"Oh, sorry," she apologised, "he sent me the roses because, well, it is kind of our anniversary, if you can really call it that."

"What do you mean, anniversary?"

"Two years ago I was," she checked the clock on the mantel, it had just gone half past eight, "I was waiting until it was dark enough for me to get close to the house." She explained quietly. "I think half past eleven is when it actually happened," she added, not looking any of them in the eye, "give or take a few minutes."

"Quite a macabre thing to mark with flowers."

"Well, it's what after that, exactly a year ago oddly enough, that the flowers are for."

"I know that you've said the things changed," Sirius said, "but how?" he asked. "How did such a destructive, abusive relationship change? How could such a thing change?"

"I don't know." She shrugged. "It just did and I don't understand why."

"Fudge will never accept that."

"I know; I will just have to think of something to say. That's what tonight is for." She finished her glass of wine and stood to pour another.

The conversation turned to more mundane topics again after that, and continued for another hour or so before Kathryn remembered something she had promised Hermione. She had turned he conversation to the books that were in the house and made Kathryn remember her promise.

"Oh, speaking of which," she told Hermione, "I have that book you wanted to borrow." In truth, Hermione had asked to borrow it weeks ago but, after her argument with Harry, she hadn't seen Hermione to give it to her. "It's just in the study; I'll go and fetch it." She stood and walked out of the room and into the study next door.

The room was pitch black as she walked in, not even the fire was lit and there was a slight chill in the air. There was no moon that night so there was not even the moonlight to help her see. She waved her wand to light the candles but none did so. Waving her wand again, she spoke the incantation.

"Lumos." A single candle sprang to life on his desk. No fire sprang up in the grate and she had to cross the room in the darkness, avoiding the various pieces of furniture. It was only as she got close enough to the desk that she saw what was sitting in the little area of light the candle created. The glass that had been loosely held in her fingers slipped from her grasp and shattered against the wooden floor. She heard the sound of many pairs of feet rushing from the room next door and into the study. Despite hearing them crash into furniture in the darkness she did not move her eyes from the desk.

"What?" Hermione gasped. "What's wrong? Oh." Her voice tailed off as she too caught sight of the object on the desk. This was the reaction of most people as they reached the desk. Lying in the candlelight was a single burgundy rose, the petals velvety and so dark they looked almost black, with a length of red ribbon tied in a bow around the stem. Sitting just above the bow was a ring. It was a discrete band of platinum with shining diamonds set around the entire circumference.

"Oh Merlin." Mrs Weasley said quietly as she picked up the rose, being careful not to let the ring fall off. Harry watched as his sister turned it over in her hand, examining it from every angle before stepping back to lean against the wall of the alcove in which the floor to ceiling window was set. Slowly, she slid down until she was sat with her legs stretched out. It was only then that Harry noticed that she had tears streaming down her cheeks in silent rivers. She gazed out the window mournfully, not meeting anyone's gaze, and running her fingers over the rose she still held in her hands. Everyone was looking for an explanation but, judging by the look on her face, she was just as mystified as the rest of them.

"Why?" Mrs Weasley said in a barely audible whisper. Kathryn merely shook her head in response, burying her face in her hands. "It's alright dear," she said kindly, kneeling down next to her, "would you like to be alone?" Kathryn nodded, wiping dears from her cheeks with her sleeve. "We'll show ourselves out." She gave her a surprisingly restrained, motherly hug. "See you in the morning." As soon as she stood, she was replaced by Sirius.

"Hang in there." He whispered, hugging her as well. Harry Ron and Hermione all hugged her goodbye too; Kathryn pointing out the book for Hermione that still lay on the desk. It was a first edition copy of 'Hogwarts, A History' and she saw Hermione's eyes light up as she took it reverentially in her hands. They left quietly, closing the study door behind them and leaving her sitting in the darkness. It was only then that she let the floodgates open; sobbing in the dark for quite some time. She hadn't cried like this since those days when he had first had her.

Once her tears had subsided, her eyes red raw, she opened the bottom drawer of his desk and pulled out the several packages it contained. Setting the rose down, she pulled the first parcel towards her and undid the red ribbon that held the paper together. Beneath the blue paper was a box that contained another stupendous set of jewels, sapphires this time. Another box revealed a delicate tiara with jewels that matched the previous gift. Following these, there was another pair of stupendous dresses; one long, elegant cream ball gown and a shorter cocktail dress in deep purple. On top of all this were a couple of bottles of what looked like very expensive perfume, another few sets of jewellery, several new, elegant quills and a box of chocolates that looked like they had come from Paris.

Placing all of these on the desk and picking up the rose once more, she blew the candle out and walked in the darkness back to the door. She meandered through the Manor, venturing to the kitchen where the house elves supplied her with a small vase. Returning upstairs, she filled the vase and set it on her bedside table; levitating the other large vase to a table by one of the windows. Carefully, she slipped the ring off the stem and stuck it in the vase, not removing the ribbon. Leaving the ring on the cabinet, she disappeared into the bathroom to brush her teeth and then went next door to the wardrobe and re-emerged in her pyjamas.

Leaning back against the headboard, she twirled the ring around in her fingers; marvelling at how the many facets sparkled in the light. Of course, she knew that it was. It was an eternity ring; telling her that he wanted her to be his forever. However, this also told her that he was hers forever. Placing it back on the bedside cabinet, she took her glasses off and slid beneath the duvet; falling asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillows.


	64. Chapter 64

A/N - A faster update than imagined...and a few chapters too!! And so begins day two of the trial......

As always please read, review and, most importantly, enjoy!!!

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Wednesday arrived nothing like the day that had preceded it. Rain lashed the windows of the manor as she woke up and did not stop as she showered, dressed and ate her breakfast. Thunder rumbled in the distance as she dashed out to the waiting car; dressed in a smart black suit and wrapped in a cloak to protect from the howling wind.

"Bizarre summer weather." She muttered as she sank down into her seat and the car rolled off. Considering that she did not have Lucius to distract her as she had done that past two times, she had brought the morning edition of the Prophet with her to see what Rita Skeeter had written about her after yesterday's revelations. There was, however, no story of what had happened; not a word of what she had said was in print. Instead, an image of her kissing Lucius in the foyer holding an enormous bouquet of roses graced the front pages. The headline read 'MACABRE ANNIVERSARY' in bold, black print and underneath was an explanation that it had been some kind of anniversary of their 'meeting' but did not elucidate the subject. Underneath this was written, again in bold lettering; 'TOMORROW, AN EXCLUSIVE REPORT FROM RITA SKEETER ON THE TESTIMONY OF KATHRYN POTTER'. Apparently, Skeeter was going to reserve judgement on her until she had finished telling her story; an unusually thoughtful move on her part.

"How unusual it is for her to stay silent on such a scandalous issue." She said to herself as they turned onto the Muggle motorway. She barely noticed the rest of the journey; spending her time flicking through the Prophet looking for anything else of interest. Draco Malfoy's trial was due to start next week.

That would prove interesting; in fact, she would be happy to attend as she had a great desire to see her former classmate finally get his due. She could also give evidence against him, as he had tried to use an Unforgivable curse upon her. She had wished to see Bellatrix Lestrange receive fitting punishment for those she had killed, including her foster parents. Lucius had even told her that Bellatrix had been boasting about it for weeks afterwards; that she had even considered sending a bunch of flowers just to mock her loss. Perhaps her death had been sufficient.

She was more concerned, however, about Draco's trial as the outcome could put her at considerable risk. She would be safe if the Wizengamot ruled in, what was technically, her favour. If not, then she would fight tooth and nail before he could come back to Malfoy Manor while she was still there.

She barely noticed the time pass as she thought over these matters, not wanting to consider the possible consequences, and before she knew where they were, they were pulling into the dingy alleyway once more. She exited the car with a sigh, wishing she didn't have to do this, and announced herself in the telephone box. After a few seconds, a badge rattled out and the lift began to descend. She walked briskly across the atrium, setting the badge on the desk as she had done for the past two days, and heading straight for the stairs. Flashbulbs went off in her face but she was past the point of caring. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Sirius and the rest of the Order were already waiting outside the courtroom doors.

"You look exhausted." Sirius commented as she stood with them.

"I didn't sleep well." She explained, for, although she had fallen asleep instantly, her sleep had been fitful and plagued by disturbing dreams. Rubbing sleep out of her eyes, she leant against Sirius for a while, closing her eyes and trying to sort out what she was going to say. "I'm just so tired." She said sadly. In the quiet, a flashbulb popped and startled them all.

"Get out of it!" Moody growled at the photographer, advancing fiercely upon him and prompting the small, weedy man to scarper back up the stairs. Somewhere, a clock struck eleven and the doors opened. People at once began to file in, as did the Weasleys and the rest of the Order.

"Are you coming?" Harry asked, noticing, for the first time, that she was wearing the ring she had found the night before.

"No," she replied in a distracted voice, her eyes scanning the corridor, "I have to wait…" her voice tailed off but Harry understood.

"Don't take any crap from Scrimgeour." He said with a smile before disappearing through the doors. She heard the Wizengamot enter the courtroom through the closed doors and, almost immediately after that, a group of people appeared through a concealed door at the end of the corridor. She saw a blond head snap to attention as soon as it saw her and she had to fight the urge to fling herself into his arms as they walked closer.

"Out of my way Miss Potter." Scrimgeour ordered as they approached.

"Oh shut up Scrimgeour." She said derisively, pushing past him and stopping before Lucius.

"By the look on your face, I'd say you found my surprise." Lucius said with a raised eyebrow. He took her right hand and looked at the circle of diamonds that surrounded her ring finger. "Perfect," he told her, "just how I thought it'd look."

"And the other things," she added, "I found those too. You know that you shouldn't have."

"But you like them?"

"Of course, they're all beautiful."

"You look tired."

"I didn't sleep well. You know, bad dreams, empty bed. " She explained, having noticed that, when she was worried, she slept better when he was there. "I'm just very tired."

"I'd gathered." He said. "You're pushing yourself too hard."

"But I have to fight." She sighed. He was amazed at how fragile she looked. It was as if the enormity of everything had hit her overnight and had had an immediate effect. Not saying anything, he pulled her close and held her there, not caring that the doors opened and a thousand pairs of eyes were watching them.

"Time to go." He whispered in her ear as she clung onto him.

"I know." As she looked at him, her face immediately changed from its melancholy expression to one of complete seriousness. "So lets go." Preceded by his guard of Aurors, they strode into the courtroom as if no one had seen their exchange moments before.

Harry and everyone else had all seen Lucius Malfoy enter a room many times before and, he had to admit, that it was perfectly imposing; letting people know how much power he had. He had certainly been better at it than is son, who just ended up looking stupid. They had also seen the way his sister entered a room the day before. She could silence a room with a look and knew how to enthral onlookers. This, however, this was unlike anything they had ever seen. Harry realised that he had never seen them enter a room together, at least, not when he knew what was going on between them. Other people who were looking on had seen him make his entrance with his wife before she had died, Narcissa entering slightly behind him; just like the devoted, supportive, perfect Pureblood wife she was supposed to be. What they witnessed today was completely different.

They entered side by side, instead of one behind the other. Their strides were purposeful and commanding; making sure that everyone knew that they were not to be messed with. Harry thought he was witnessing the debut of the ultimate power couple, despite the fact that their relationship was nothing official. Their posture was flawless and they seemed to walk in time with each other. He was sure that if they had entered any room like this, no matter how crowded or noisy it was, they would have silenced them and the crowd would have parted to let them through. The only thing that was out of place was that the serpent-topped cane was in her hands, not his. They were even dressed alike, however accidentally. He had dressed like that because they were the only clothes he had at his disposal. She had dressed like that due to the weather.

Like yesterday, she was wearing a suit, only this time it was black with a white shirt. The waistcoat was, again, tightly fitted and emphasised her slender figure. The shirt was also open, following the line of the waistcoat, and extending as far to offer a brief glimpse of the black silk of her underwear. A necklace of oversized chunks of obsidian, linked by small diamonds, sat around her neck; another of her birthday gifts she had unwrapped the previous evening.

They separated once they reached the top of the courtroom; she walking up the stairs to where she was going to give her account, he to the chair to which he would again be chained. Looking right at her, Harry could see none of the fragility he had observed earlier when she had arrived. Her face was now an impenetrable mask, giving nothing away and allowing nothing to affect it.

"Now, Miss Potter," Fudge resumed where they had left off the day before, "I believe that you were just going to elaborate on how things changed when you visited Malfoy Manor last summer. Please continue." Fudge seemed to have learned that he would get the best answers when he was polite.

"As you wish." She sighed. "I returned to Malfoy Manor last summer, exactly a year after my first visit there." She explained. "When I was with Mr Malfoy that evening, he said that he was asking me for information one final time, implying that he was giving up. He also gave me a birthday gift, a set of jewellery made from emeralds the same colour as my eyes. I did not know this then, but he had bought the stones rough and had commissioned the jewellery himself. Although I did not know this at the time, to me, it speaks of a higher regard for someone as opposed to seeing them as something you can use and abuse."

"Indeed, was there anything else?" the wizard that had been questioning her the previous day continued from where he had left off.

"Well, later on that night, and by later I mean about three in the morning," she continued, "I'd just been in the shower and I started thinking."

"What were your thoughts?" Lucius was very interested to hear this as he did not know what had sparked the reversal in their relationship.

"I realised that I didn't hate him for what he'd done." She confessed. "And I didn't hate myself for what I hid anymore."

"So what did you feel instead?"

"Well, pretty much up until then I had hated enjoying what happened between us, but something had changed along the way." She didn't know really how to put this into words. "I enjoyed it." She blurted out. "I enjoyed having something that no one knew about."

"What did you do?" he asked. "What did you do that made you realise that?"

"I kissed him." she shrugged.

"That is not so fantastic." He sounded distinctly unimpressed. "I am quite sure that, judging by your previous account."

"I'd never kissed him properly." She corrected him. "He had never, ever kissed me. I think because it was too personal. So long as he didn't kiss me properly, it didn't matter what he did, it was all impersonal."

"So why did you do it?" he asked probingly. "If it made it personal?"

"I wanted to." She said, her eyes gleaming. "And doing it wasn't so bad."

"Why?"

"Ever since that moment, and I mean that very moment," she hoped that she had implied what he had done after she had kissed him, "I have been someone to pleasure. I have been someone with whom he can forget the rest of the world."

"Surely you knew the consequences of this if you were ever discovered?"

"Of course, but I was too far into this anyway to escape unharmed. I made the choice to do this, it was not forced upon me; I chose to accept the consequences of my actions."

"What did you do after this?"

"I stayed at Malfoy Manor for the next week, interrupted briefly by a visit from Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange, and then I went home."

"You saw nothing of Mrs Malfoy or her son during your stay?"

"No, like last time they were gone." The wizard questioning nodded and passed on to another of his colleagues. This time it was a plump, auburn haired woman with thick rimmed glasses who questioned her.

"Now, Miss Potter," she had a Yorkshire accent and was wearing several gold rings on her podgy fingers, "after this encounter, when did you see Mr Malfoy next?"

"Like the year before, I saw him first at the opening match of the Quidditch season; Gryffindor versus Slytherin."

"And was this the same as last time?" she queried. "Meeting after dark for a few hours?"

"Oh no," Kathryn smirked, "we went no further than the Quidditch stadium." There were quite a few gasps at what she implied by this and Lucius could not help but smirk as he remembered it.

"A very risky move." She commented. "More chance of discovery."

"Well, for the first time, I didn't actually care." She admitted.

"But nothing remarkable happened on that occasion. You were no longer forced." She clarified.

"Yes."

"So, the next time you saw Mr Malfoy, was it the second Quidditch match of the season like the year before?"

"No, the next Slytherin fixtures were not until the New Year. Our next meeting was on the first Hogsmeade visit."

"Now, in your memories, we saw you bump into him. Could you please explain that?"

"Well, he was there with Professor Snape so I couldn't just go up and talk to him and he could not approach me either." She recounted. "I went to take our empty bottles back to the bar just as they left and he bumped into me purposefully. I dropped the bottles, as I was carrying about eight, but when I went to pick them up, there was a piece of parchment there too."

"A note I assume?"

"Yes."

"What did it say?"

"It just said fifteen minutes." She shrugged. "Nothing scandalous."

"But you understood the meaning?"

"It had 'fifteen minutes' written on it." She replied in an acerbic tone. "It meant that I was to meet him in fifteen minutes in the hills outside Hogsmeade. I would usually meet him in the hills around the village as not many students ventured there in cold weather."

"And did that go smoothly." Kathryn wasn't sure why she asked this as she knew that answer was the contrary.

"No," she sighed, "and I don't know why you bother to ask when you already know the answer, but I shall humour you. The meeting did not go smoothly, we were nearly discovered."

"By whom."

"By his son." She said through gritted teeth. "And his friends."

"Were you not put off due to the risk?"

"As I said before, I didn't really care." She did not know whether they just asked her the same thing, in different ways, to try and catch her out or just to annoy her, but it was definitely doing the latter.

"And am I right to assume that nothing remarkable happened then?"

"Well, I did suggest that he should send his wife on safari as a Christmas present so we could get some guaranteed time alone. Of course, I did not see the effect of that suggestion until the New Year."

"So, the next time you saw Mr Malfoy was at Minister Fudge's Christmas reception on Boxing Day?"

"Yes. I came alone and Mr Malfoy was accompanied by his wife." She explained.

"So this was the first time you had seen his wife since this all began?" She asked inquisitively.

"Yes." Kathryn nodded, remembering what Narcissa Malfoy had said about her that night. "It was."

"How did you feel?" she asked. "Now that you were more Mr Malfoy's lover, his mistress if you will."

"I was nearly sick." She admitted, hoping that her face did not betray any emotion. "I was confronted by the fact that she was real and was not merely something intangible or something that only existed in the back of my mind. All I knew, when I saw her, was that I was standing in a room full of the wealthiest, most influential people in the wizarding world and I was wearing a dress and jewels that he had bought for me whilst his wife stood not twenty metres away."

"Did you speak to her?"

"Yes. Minister Fudge introduced us after he found me sitting by myself."

"What did she say?"

"Nothing remarkable," Kathryn shrugged, "she didn't honestly seem at all interested in me."

"So what do you think, personally, that she felt?"

"I don't need to speculate on what she thought, I know because I eavesdropped." She said with a smirk.

"You did this willingly?" the witch obviously thought this very rude.

"It is a by-product of constantly living with spies; you learn how to listen in on conversations without feeling guilty."

"So what did you learn?"

"She wasn't impressed." Kathryn said, remembering what she had heard. "She thought that I was outclassed and was pretending to be a Pureblood because of the way I was dressed. Of course, she didn't know that her husband had provided me with most of my outfit."

"What did Mr Malfoy say?" she questioned. "Considering the abuse that was being levelled at his lover?"

"He defended me, quite surprisingly." She explained. "I had not expected him to, but he did none the less. He opposed her when she said that I was not much of a beauty and when she criticised my clothes. He even told her that he considered my appearance elegant."

"How did the late Mrs Malfoy react?"

"She was utterly appalled by such opinions and was quite worried that someone was going to hear what he said."

"How did his defence make you feel?"

"Well, it did tell me something of his regard for me. It was, to be honest, quite nice."

"What did you think of her?" she asked curiously. "Seeing as she was, technically, your rival."

"I never saw Narcissa Malfoy as my rival." Kathryn shook her head. "Rivals generally know about each other. Besides, her even contemplating that such a thing was going on was out of the question as she was so certain that her husband would not stoop as low as to sleep with a Half-Blood such as myself."

"Yes, but what did you think of her?" she pressed the original question.

"Well, I thought that she was pretty although the look she had on her face when she looked at me rather spoiled that."

"Anything more?"

"She had a very high opinion of herself, but fine, that was how she was brought up. I assume that, in life, she was expected to make the best marriage she could instead of pursuing a career. In all honesty, I find it rather sad that some girls my age grew up knowing that all they could hope for in life was to be traded like I piece of meat. Of course, if they found love good for them; but I can imagine a great many others remaining unhappy."

"I understand that you and the late Mrs Malfoy were featured in the style section of the Daily Prophet the day after."

"Yes," Kathryn explained, "I believe the Prophet considered us the style successes of the evening and decided to give us our own space."

"They did make one interesting observation, didn't they?"

"Yes," she sighed, "the writer said that they doubted that the same person had picked our clothes despite how we both understood the simple rules of dressing well."

"Was the writer wrong?"

"I suppose so," she shrugged, not really seeing how this was important, "I would assume that Mrs Malfoy's dress and jewels, well, her entire outfit had been paid for by her husband."

"And what about yours?"

"My dress and jewellery had also arrived courtesy of Lucius Malfoy, yes." She hesitated before saying what she did next. "But, I have always had the nagging feeling that mine actually cost more than hers. I have never asked though."

"Mr Malfoy," Lucius was addressed for the first time since he had pleaded not guilty on the first day, "could you please be so kind as to tell us whose outfit cost more; you late wife's or Miss Potter's?"

"Well," Kathryn could tell that he was going to draw this out, "my wife's dress was the only expense for that occasion as she already owned the jewellery etcetera. That came to three hundred Galleons."

"And Miss Potter?"

"Miss Potter's dress cost me in excess of a thousand Galleons as it was handmade in Milan. If you take into account the jewellery, which was a commissioned piece and not a family heirloom like my wife's, you are looking at a cost of over six million Galleons." The entire courtroom let out a collective gasp.

"Taking the phrase 'you look a million Galleons' to a new level." The witch commented. "Just a query, Mr Malfoy, did your wife not notice the absence of such large sums of money from your accounts?"

"Narcissa was not raised to pry into her husbands affairs, nor to concern herself with financial matters. So long as I could put food on the table and jewels around her neck she did not question where money was going."

"I suppose that was useful." She commented before passing the baton to another of her colleagues.

"Miss Potter," the wizard that addressed her had thin, wire framed spectacles and a shock of white hair, "you seem to have some very fixed views on the Pureblood community. Why is that?"

"Well, I generally find their views offensive, especially towards my friends." She explained.

"So why, pray tell, did you choose to have a relationship with the most prominent Pureblood of all?"

"First of all," she replied in a tone that suggested that she was already annoyed with him, "I did not choose to have a relationship with Lucius Malfoy." She laid heavy emphasis on the word 'choose'. "Last time I checked, I did not choose to be raped." Her voice had taken on that dangerous tone again.

"Well, let's return to the original question." He seemed to understand that it was unwise to provoke her.

"Most of the old Pureblood families held the same beliefs on the importance of blood purity. I'm sure that everyone here knows that." She explained. "The Malfoy's were no exception, neither was the house of Black." She nodded in the direction of Sirius. "Although with a few notable exceptions."

"And what, may I ask, is your point?"

"I have had plenty of time to kill since Minister Fudge decided that I was to be placed under house arrest, although I am still in the dark as to what my crime was." She told him. "Harry and I never knew anything of our father's family so I decided to have a look into it in my copious amounts of spare time."

"And what did you find?" Harry was also interested to hear this as she hadn't even told him.

"Harry and I are not Pureblood," she had to resist the temptation to smirk as she knew that she had the whole room on tenterhooks, "but we are as good as. We are descended from a very ancient pureblood line, heading further back than you could imagine, with close links to the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black. Our father was in fact a distant cousin of our Godfather, Sirius Black."

"Any more revelations?" he seemed thoroughly bored.

"Well, that ancient pureblood line is that of the Peverell family." She added with a shrug. There was some whispering, not everyone in the courtroom knowing the full story around the Peverell brothers. "Just thought you might be interested. Not that we set stock by bloodlines." There was muted whispering around the room whilst everyone waited for a response.


	65. Chapter 65

A/N - Day two, part two.....originally part of one single chapter but I decided to split then as 10,000 words at a go might be a bit much...I don;t want you to strain your eyes!!!

Hope you enjoy the chapter and please leave me a review!

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"Well, now, where were we?" Apparently he was not going to comment upon this revelation.

"Christmas." Kathryn reminded him tersely.

"Of course. Now, what happened after you left the reception."

"Well, I didn't leave by myself. I left with Mr Malfoy; I just sent a note saying that I was staying overnight at Minister Fudge's residence."

"You do seem to find yourself leaving with Mr Malfoy quite often."

"Well yes," Kathryn smirked, "I might have arrived at these things alone but I never left unaccompanied."

"You seem to be able to lie very easily." He commented, instantly changing tack. "Too easily for someone who was doing this against her will."

"When you do it enough, it just becomes natural." She shot back. "Although it cannot be said that things that happened after summer were against my wishes."

"Indeed. We shall explore that later I'm sure. What happened after you arrived back at Mr Malfoy's home?"

"I think you can figure that one out for yourself." She replied coolly, raising an eyebrow. "And then I left the next morning before anyone could get suspicious."

"And when-." He did not get a chance to finish his question before Kathryn interrupted him.

"The next time I saw him was on Valentine's day." She answered; by know understanding their very basic structure of questioning.

"Yes, however, the next time you saw him, he no longer had a wife." The aged wizard pointed out. "How did her death make you feel?" Kathryn paused before continuing, not really wanting to remember how she had felt.

"Sick." She said quietly. "I felt sick because she had died on a trip that I had suggested. I was actually sick," she explained in a voice that sounded distant to her ears as she remembered that day, "several times in fact. I was terrified that he had her killed because of me. I felt so guilty even though I'd had nothing to do with it." Lucius was amazed at what she was saying. He'd had no idea that she had felt that way. "I was very ill for about an hour and then I went back to the Gryffindor dormitories to sleep it off. The next thing I knew, it was the next morning."

"What did you do then?" he asked inquisitively. "Did you contact him?"

"No." She shook her head. "I sent a letter of condolence after a while," she explained, "and I got a reply thanking me and saying that he wanted to see me as soon as possible."

"What did you say in return?"

"I did not send a reply. It is hard enough as it is to send one letter without anyone looking over your shoulder. Trying to send a second letter would just be silly. I just assumed that he would find me on the next Hogsmeade visit."

"Quite a blind assumption."

"Well, it had served me well so far. It was just how it went. He would be in Hogsmeade whenever we were allowed to go down to the village and he would just find me."

"So what happened on the next visit?"

"I assumed that he would meet me up in the hills around the village as we normally did."

"And I take it that he did."

"Of course." She shrugged. "But first I decided to try my hand at something I had been practicing for a while."

"And what was that?" he asked, despite having seen it the other day.

"I achieved my first Animagi transformation." She explained. "We, that is, my bother, my friends and I had been practicing for a while and I just thought that I'd try."

"I take it that it worked."

"Yes. It was the first time it had worked. He was the first one to see me in my animagus form."

"And what, might I ask, is your animagus form?" he asked, although he already knew the answer.

"A wolf." She answered shortly.

"Interesting." He mused. "You do know that people's Animagi forms reflect the person, yes?"

"I do know that, yes." She nodded, understanding where this was going.

"Then what does the wolf say about you?" he asked the courtroom. "Brutal? Predatory? Lonely? That you toe a fine line between good and evil?"

"Or maybe that I am strong, independent, cunning and loyal to my friends?" she countered. "Besides, that isn't really the point. He was there and, for the first time since Christmas, I actually spoke to him."

"What did you talk about?"

"I asked him how he was coping; he said fine, I didn't believe him." She explained quickly. "When you know someone like I had gotten to know Mr Malfoy, you notice things like bags under the eyes and weight loss. Although, to be fair, he noticed the same things as me. I hadn't been sleeping all that well since I had found out and I had lost some weight."

"Anything else?"

"I asked him if he had organised it. If his wife had died because she was an obstacle between him and me."

"And what answer did you get?"

"The death of his wife had been an accident." She clarified. "It had nothing to do with me. We also spoke of where this left us and he asked me whether I was prepared to go where this route would ultimately lead. I said yes."

"So you understood full well what could happen?"

"I had for a long time; this was just the first time I had voiced this to him."

"How touching."

"Well, the moment was ruined by my brother, Ron, Hermione and Ginny coming round the corner." She smirked. "But we finished the conversation at his manor." She added, knowing that everyone would be able to work out what happened next.

"Did anything happen during this encounter?" he asked. "It was Valentine's Day after all."

"Well, he gave me a necklace," she shrugged, "rubies, to match the ring he gave me the year before."

"Anything else?"

"We just talked about when the next opportunity would be." She explained. "I'm sorry I cannot delight your imagination with tales of debauchery." Harry was surprised that this comment actually drew a laugh from the room. "By this time, our meetings were not for his personal gain; but for mutual pleasure."

"So when was your next opportunity to see each other?" he appeared not to have noticed what she had just said.

"On the Hogwarts Governors annual visit to the castle," she informed the courtroom, "apparently, they always meet the Head Boy and Girl and have lunch with them. This visit is also usually timed to coincide with a Quidditch match."

"How on earth did you manage to conduct anything under such circumstances?" he demanded. "How could you hide such a secret form all your friends, teachers and, more importantly, Albus Dumbledore?"

"Have you ever considered that people rarely see what is right before their eyes?" she shot back. "Besides, all it takes to hide something is a certain skill at Occlumency and a good poker face."

"What do you mean when you say that people 'rarely see what is right before their eyes'?" he asked curiously, repeating what she had just said for added effect.

"Well," she sighed, "Harry, Ron and Hermione were all concerned that I was finding myself in situations that involved close contact with Lucius Malfoy. To be fair, at first I was worried but, by this time, I was looking for ways to see him."

"Your point is?" he looked bored again.

"I will get there if you give me a chance to explain, I thought you wanted to know what happened and why?" she shot back with a disparaging stare before continuing. "I had already convinced them that I was playing nice so that he would not try to oust Professor Dumbledore again. I'm sure you'll remember Professor Dumbledore's suspension by the board of Governors in my brother's second year? I was not here but I have been informed by my brother that it is widely known that he used rather below board methods of obtaining the requisite signatures." She paused for a moment, watching Lucius as he smirked to himself. Whilst she did not condone that course of action, she could not help but find herself admiring how he could manipulate things to get his way.

"Anyway," she went on, looking back that the Wizengamot, "after I was appointed to the position of Head Girl, along with Harry, Ron and Hermione, playing nice became even more necessary. Then Narcissa Malfoy died. I am sure that my brother and friends did not miss the impact had upon my little plan. In their eyes, he was a widower and was no longer constrained in his pursuit of other women. I am sure that, in their eyes, I was in grave danger of becoming a target for him."

"Obviously they still had no inclination of what had been going on?"

"No, as far as I was aware, they were comfortably oblivious to the situation that I had found myself in."

"And you were happy with this?"

"Yes, now, where was I?" she resumed her explanation of what she had said. "Well, in our roles as Head Girls and Head Boys, we were duty bound to be polite and so my conversing with Mr Malfoy and sitting next to him at a Quidditch match would not raise any suspicions as long as we betrayed no other emotion."

"And your friends, and more importantly, your brother were unconcerned by this?" he asked incredulously.

"Oh no," she shook her head, "they were concerned but I convinced them that I had the situation under control."

"And did you?"

"I did, they just didn't know which situation I was talking about." She smirked.

"What did you do after the match?" he asked, moving the topic swiftly on.

"Well, after lunch, I went back to the Gryffindor common room and got changed then packed my bag for a shower. I told Harry Ron and Hermione that I was going for a shower and then to look up some stuff for the next day's DA meeting." She explained. "Only instead I went to the Room of Requirement as was, by that time, usual."

"Did anything unusual happen?"

"Well, I'm not sure if you would class this as unusual," she shrugged, "but all I did at first was kiss him. It doesn't seem that big but, for me at least, it was a significant change. I had never thought that I would ever be like that with him. I never thought he would be able to show such kindness towards me. I also thought that I would never be able to stand such tenderness from him, much less reply in the same way."

"And was that it?"

"No." she shook her head. "I did leave but I went back."

"Why?"

"Because I needed to ask him why there were pictures in the Prophet of him with pretty girls hanging off his arms." She explained calmly, ignoring the several people that she could see whispering.

"That was rather possessive of you."

"Well, as I have said, things had changed by then." She shrugged. "Considering that I was no longer under his thumb I needed to ensure that I was not going to be seen as a casual fling."

"So you wished to secure the exclusivity of your relationship?"

"Well, I wasn't thinking of it in that way but I didn't have to ask him to declare it, he told me that no one else compared to me."

"That sounds like a line he has said many times." He shot back sceptically.

"It was true." She said quietly, gazing down at Lucius.

"How touching." He commented in a voice that clearly conveyed that he didn't care in the slightest. Lucius felt sorry for the man as he knew that Kathryn would now spare no quarter in her responses to his questions. "When did you next see him?"

"At a Quidditch World Cup group match between England and Italy." She replied tersely. "That was unplanned."

"What happened?"

"He let slip to minister Fudge that I was there and, owing to our Minister's need to show off to visiting dignitaries, I was sent for."

"Minister Fudge actually requested your presence?"

"Well, the note was delivered by his undersecretary, Percy Weasley."

"So that's a yes?"

"No. the handwriting was Lucius Malfoy's."

"And what did you tell your brother and friends?" he asked, knowing that she was going to say that she lied.

"I told them Fudge wanted me, which he did; it was just Mr Malfoy that made the request."

"So you lied."

"Yes."

"Was that time at the match the only time you saw him?"

"No, he invited me to dine at his manor that evening with Minister Fudge." She explained. "His son and Pansy Parkinson were also present."

"So he brazenly flaunted you before the Minister for magic, his son and his son's girlfriend?"

"I wouldn't have said that I was flaunted as such," she replied with a sneer, "he was very restrained."

"Did he do anything unusual?"

"No, unless you count a dinner laced with aphrodisiacs." She shrugged.

"Did his son not notice anything?" he seemed astounded. "Surely he must have presumed that something was up, after all, for such a staunch supporter of Dumbledore happily coming for dinner at a Death Eater's residence?"

"To own the truth, I think Draco Malfoy was far to preoccupied with Miss Parkinson to notice anything going on. She did seem to feel the effects of dinner quite visibly." She could barely contain her laughter as she saw Pansy squirm and blush in her seat.

"And did you feel some effects of the dinner?"

"Of course," she shrugged, smiling at the memory, "except I put it to good use and garnered as much as I could."

"What do you mean by that?" he asked curiously, although, moments later he wished he hadn't.

"It means that I was quite thoroughly indulged." She said with a nostalgic smile. "And I managed to carry it over into the next day too." She added with a smirk.

"So you didn't go home the next day then?"

"No," she shook her head, "I stayed until after lunch. I just sent a note to Sirius saying that Minister Fudge had asked me to stay for Sunday dinner."

"So what did you really do?"

"Well, Lucius had me for breakfast and then I got up, had a shower and got dressed." She listed quickly. "Then he gave me a set of grey pearls that he had bought when he had gone to Paris the week before."

"Any reason for such an extravagant gift?" he asked, making notes on his parchment and not looking at her.

"No, there wasn't a reason; he just said that he had thought that they would suit me."

"And I assume that you returned home and then back to Hogwarts that afternoon."

"Yes." With a mere nod of his head, he passed the questioning on to another colleague. This woman looked like she had been a beauty when she was younger. She had long, lustrous hair only it was bright white and pair of pince-nez sat on the end of her nose as she peered at her papers.

"So, Miss Potter, according to what you showed us in the pensieve; the next time you saw Mr Malfoy was during the Easter holidays, yes?"

"Yes." She nodded in affirmation. "When I got there he was with Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange as well as Antonin Dolohov, Avery and Crabbe and Goyle senior."

"I assume that this was substantially dangerous for you."

"Yes, but I just hid using my animagus form and waited until they had gone." She shrugged. "It wasn't exactly hard."

"What did you do once you were alone?"

"What do you think?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. "I spent two days in absolute bliss until the evening paper arrived on the third day."

"By that I take it that you mean the revelation that your foster parents had been murdered by the Death Eaters?"

"Yes. I was out walking when I found out. I collapsed and he came running to help me."

"Did he now?"

"Well, contrary to what everyone seems to think." She shot back in a dry tone. "He is not completely devoid of emotion or compassion."

"I did not suggest such. Now, what did you do afterwards?"

"Well, at first I was in shock and then I got angry and threw a good few plates at him. I thought the he knew about it seeing as Bellatrix Lestrange and company had been here before I had arrived."

"Had he known?" she asked, not looking up from her notes.

"No," she shook her head, "that was plain to tell. After that he took me back upstairs and fixed my feet because I had hurt them when I had stamped my feet in the china and glass."

"Did he know what had actually happened?"

"I explained it to him." She nodded. "By that point I could actually speak coherently again you see."

"Why, might I ask, did you not go home straight away? I am sure that your brother and friends were substantially worried about you considering that you wear away from home."

"I wanted to but he wouldn't let me go home in such a state. I left the next morning."

"And I understand that the funeral was held in Paris?"

"Yes, it was where they had spent their entire lives so it made sense. I went over to Paris the day after I got home to sort out the house and arrange the funeral which was held four days after I received the news."

"Why was Mr Malfoy present at the funeral, Miss Potter?" she asked pointedly. "He had no reason to be there considering his associations and I'm, sure your brother, friends and godfather resented his presence."

"I issued a general invitation to all the Hogwarts Governors as they had been so nice to me in the past and I couldn't exactly leave him off the list; that would've just looked suspicious."

"Any other reason?"

"I wanted him there." She said in a tone that clearly stated that the woman should have reached that conclusion by now, but she knew that she just wanted to hear her say it. "I wanted him there because he had been kind to me and he was the one person who could make me smile at that point."

"And you met up in the cemetery, yes?"

"I spoke to him for a few minutes, yes. A few minutes was as long as I could afford to be absent at that point. Harry, Ron and Hermione were extra vigilant knowing that he was there."

"What did he say?"

"Well, he told me that he thought he knew who was responsible."

"And who was that?"

"Bellatrix Lestrange." There were several stifled gasps from within the observers. Bellatrix would probably be happy to know that her reputation still preceded her. "He told me that it had her handiwork all over it, considering that they had been tortured too."

"What did you do after the funeral, considering that he was in Paris too?"

"Well, after the wake I got changed and went to his hotel but he didn't answer the door. He was staying at the Georges V, where I had stayed when I had gone to Paris the summer before."

"Did you wait for him?"

"No." she shook her head. "The fact that he wasn't there made me feel worse so I went out and got smashed."

"You told him where you were going though?"

"I left him I note but, as I understand it, he had no idea what I meant and had to go to the hotel where I was staying to ask about it."

"And he showed up?"

"Yes, one look at my scar gets me anything so I told the security guys to let him in when he got there."

"But, by the time he got there you were quite far gone?"

"If by 'far gone' you mean stupidly drunk then, yes, I was. I think I will be eternally grateful for what he did though because, if he hadn't come, I probably would've woken up in someone's bed other than his."

"So he forcibly removed you."

"Yes, but I'm glad he did. We walked back to his hotel and, as it always does, the alcohol kicked in. I ended up shouting at him all because he had chastised me for being stupid and getting drunk by myself to which I told him quite forcibly that he didn't run my life. He let me cry for a while and then we eventually made it back to the hotel.

"Had your friends not noticed your absence?"

"No," she shook her head, "I had snuck out and they must have just thought I was asleep."

"But you most certainly weren't."

"Well, I was," she retorted with a smirk, "just in someone else's hotel room on the other side of the Seine."

"Why did you have to see him?" she asked. "You had just left him a few days ago."

"It wasn't a question of wanting to see him," she shot back in a cold voice, "it was pure need."

"And you left Paris the following day?"

"Yes."

"Did your brother not question where you had been?"

"I just told him that I had been for a walk and, besides, I had brought breakfast back so they didn't mind."

"How fortunate," she remarked dryly, "let us move on to the next time you saw Mr Malfoy. I believe that it was the last Quidditch match before the final?"

"Yes. It was Ravenclaw versus Slytherin so that meant that he was there to watch his team win for the final time."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, Slytherin won that mach, which put them in the final against Gryffindor."

"How could you be so sure that would be the outcome?"

"We always beat Slytherin," she shrugged, "it was just a fact of life. Draco Malfoy was so determined to win by any means possible so he played dirty and games generally ended up going in our favour."

"So where did you sit during this match?" she enquired. "Considering that you have now sat in the teacher's box with Mr Malfoy for several Quidditch games over the past two years."

"I sat with my brother and my friends." She said sternly. "I had only sat with Mr Malfoy when circumstances dictated it so."

"What would you have done if he'd offered?" she probed cautiously.

"I don't know," she said quietly, "I suppose I would have had to say no. Although, if he had managed to think of an excuse to get me to sit there I would have gladly gone."

"I assume that you did not see him until some time after the match then?"

"Yes, I went for a walk and he followed me out. I made sure that he knew where I was going because I made a point of indicating, to my brother and friends, which way I was going when I left the Great Hall after dinner."

"What did he do?"

"We just talked, as well as other things. He did try to persuade me to lose the Quidditch final just so he could save face. He couldn't have given me anything that would have enticed me to lose."

"Anything else?"

"Well, I explained that we were thinking of holding a ball after the exams but he then became rather preoccupied with other matters at that point."

"Did he now?" she even gave a small smirk as there were titters of laughter around the room.

"I had to stop him, reluctant though I was." She shot back. "But we got to continue later." The imperious look she gave made sure that the entire courtroom was silent.

"How nice for you." The witch remarked dryly.

"It was actually." She shot back in an even more acerbic tone, worthy of Snape himself.

"I think it would be appropriate to take a break just there." Fudge interjected before the questioning could continue. "Half an hour."


	66. Chapter 66

A/N - Day two, part the third.....again part of a 10,000 word chapter that I have decided to split in half to make for easier reading!!! Here, questions over why she went back to him before the pre-Australia incident are raised, and she reveals why she went back.

Happy reading!!!

* * *

Without a further word the Wizengamot stood and exited through the doors on either side of their benches. She waited for everyone to disperse, waving Harry away as he beckoned her to follow. He understood and left. She only moved when there was no one left in the courtroom apart from her, Lucius and the Aurors guarding him.

Winking at him, she stayed on her raised pedestal and, quite nimbly, climbed over the gap that separated where she stood from the Wizengamot benches. She gave a sharp knock on one of the doors before entering.

"Sorry," she apologised with a smile as she breezed into the room where the members of the Wizengamot were sat drinking tea and coffee in comfortable armchairs, "but I presumed that you'd have coffee in here." Ignoring their shocked faces, she poured two steaming cups of the rich smelling black liquid and headed back out the door, leaving twelve stunned faces in her wake.

Lucius couldn't believe his eyes when she emerged with two cups and jumped back over the gap without even spilling a drop.

"How do you do that?" he asked as she walked over, a satisfied smirk playing across her face.

"Typical Gryffindor brashness!" she replied with a grin before fixing Scrimgeour with a stern look.

"What?" he asked harshly, trying to ensure that he had the upper hand.

"Let him go so he can have his coffee and give us some privacy without leaving the room." She ordered.

"I cannot." He hissed.

"Oh please," she drawled, "where are we going to go?"

With a sigh, Scrimgeour waved his wand and released Lucius of his bonds. Shaking his head, he motioned for the rest of the Aurors to follow him as he walked to the far end of the room. Stretching out his arms, Lucius took the steaming cup and drank half of it in one go.

"That's good coffee." He commented as he felt something shoot through him.

"It had better be with a bit of my favourite potion added." She said with a smirk, sipping her drink.

"That was fast, I didn't even see you do it."

"Do what?" she asked with raised eyebrows, eventually laughing.

"You're doing well." He told her after a few moments.

"Well, I'd say one of the worst bits is about to come." She sighed, sinking down onto his lap. He knew that she was referring to their slight disagreement over the half term.

"Well you're giving as good as you get, which is just fun to watch."

"It's not particularly fun to stand there though."

"I know." He pressed his lips to hers and held her tight as they sat there.

"I dread Skeeter's big report in tomorrow's Prophet." She whispered. "And I assume that Fudge wants me to wrap this up today so he can try to tear my testimony to shreds tomorrow. Won't that be a delight?" She added dryly, her fingers fiddling with one of the buttons on his jacket.

"He can't discredit the truth."

"He will try." She replied bitterly, trying not to look at the clock that was showing them that their half an hour was almost up. "Past experience has shown that memories can be altered; that things can be changed if they are undesirable."

"It was interesting to hear about your heritage." He commented. "I'm glad my books have been of some use."

"Yes, well, I was just bored one Sunday afternoon." She said with a small smile. "But all of my ancestors on my father's side have been Pureblood and it reaches all the way back through the Peverell line to Gryffindor himself."

"My, I do have impeccable taste." He replied with a smirk. "You're far too beautiful to be from an ordinary family."

"For all my ancestry I might as well be Pureblood." She said thoughtfully. "But my Muggle relatives are nothing to boast about." She sighed. "To be honest they probably think that Harry and I are dead, hell, they probably hope that we are."

"How humane of them."

"I did say that they were nothing to boast about." She laughed. "I always wondered how they'd react if I showed up on their doorstep with you."

"We'll have to try it sometime." He shrugged.

"So long as you're not confined to squalid cell, yes." She said with a wan smile. "Of course I could always bust you out."

"It's never been done."

"There's a first time for everything." The courtroom doors opened and people began to file back in. Scrimgeour and his Aurors appeared in her peripheral vision and she knew it was time to go. Standing up, she gave him a fleeting kiss and made to walk away. At least, that was until his hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to him. Standing up, he held her close and kissed her quite properly. There were several gasps from people who were entering and, eventually, she felt him being tugged away by the Aurors. She had to resist the temptation to seriously curse Scrimgeour as the shining chains once again bound him tightly to the chair.

Glaring imperiously at Scrimgeour and the other Aurors, making some of the more battle hardened amongst them quiver slightly, she stalked off. Harry witnessed this silent exchange and, although it appeared to be nothing more than two people staring each other down, he was sure that the Aurors had not missed the way her hand tightened around the top of the cane in a very covert, yet overt, threat. Harry would have liked to say that she walked away but there was no way that he could call that walking. She swept away in a way that he was sure would make Lucius Malfoy proud.

The Wizengamot began to file back in and a hush fell over the courtroom once again, many people on tenterhooks to hear what happened next.

"Right," for some reason Fudge looked, in Harry's eyes, as if he'd had a shock during the break but the vague smirk that was on Kathryn's face told him that she'd probably had something to do with it, "let's continue."

The man that resumed where the white haired woman had left off looked quite eccentric. He had brown, slicked back hair that was greying slightly at the temples, a thin face and a monocle dangling from a chain that had been threaded through a buttonhole of his robes.

"Now, Miss Potter," he had what she supposed would be considered a proper, stereotypical English gentleman's accent apart from the fact that he spoke with a constant drawl which began to grate on her as soon as he spoke, "from what you have told us, the next time you saw Lucius Malfoy was in the summer half term."

"That is correct." It appeared that her mood had been soured quite considerably by Scrimgeour's actions and it showed in her tone of voice.

"How, might I ask, did you manage to disappear unnoticed this time?"

"The sale of my foster parents' house had gone through and I was required to sign some papers. I simply went to Paris and told them that it would take a few days to finalise the details."

"Couldn't the papers have been owled to you?"

"I'm sure they could've been, yes, but I had certain plans that necessitated a few days absence."

"And those plans were?" he asked with a raised eyebrow, despite the fact that he already knew the answer.

"I had an open invitation to Malfoy Manor and I was most certainly going to use it."

"But your visit did not go as expected?" she could tell that he was going to draw this part out.

"No. Not long after I had arrived and changed into something, er, more appropriate for the situation, Professor Snape chose to arrive." She explained as delicately as she could.

"And you hid?"

"Yes. Whilst he and Lucius attended to their business I waited upstairs."

"For how long?"

"Two hours." She shrugged.

"And what happened afterwards?"

"I watched Professor Snape walk away, and I know for a fact that he saw me because he informed the Order that Lucius Malfoy had a new toy, so to speak."

"Did Mr Malfoy say anything about what he and Professor Snape had discussed?"

"No, but I was quite hasty and spoke my mind."

"About what?" there was absolute silence as they waited for her to explain.

"About what I thought of him and the other Death Eaters."

"What did you think?"

"Well, I believe the word 'pathetic' was used copiously." She said, trying to cast her mind back to an event she would rather forget. "I also remember using the phrase 'grovelling on the floor to kiss the robes of such a poor excuse for a man'."

"Not such wise words to use before a Death Eater." The wizard commented, peering at her through his monocle.

"I didn't know he was in the room." She shot back. "I thought he was still downstairs otherwise I would have said nothing."

"But you continued?"

"I was on a roll. The fact that I kept saying 'Voldemort' seemed to annoy him." She remembered how he had flown into a rage. "I also seem to remember mocking Voldemort." She couldn't believe it when a collective shudder ran round the room. "Oh please," she snapped, "it's just a name!"

"Please continue Miss Potter."

"Anyway, I was just laughing at the whole concept of it and then I turned around." Her voice faded away as she remembered the look in his eyes.

"What did you see?"

"Well, let's just say that I have never seen anyone that angry. Needless to say I stopped talking but by then it was too late."

"You crossed some unspoken line I take it?"

"I'd say that the line was far, far behind me by that point."

"What did he do?"

"He shouted at me," she said quietly, "and then I received a very hard backhand to the face."

"He hit you?"

"Yes."

"Could we just see that please?" his question this time was directed at Percy Weasley who jumped to his feet and pulled a small vial out of his robes. With a wave of his wand, the giant pensieve rose out of the floor and he tipped her memory into it.

"Is that really necessary?" she asked, not really wanting anyone else to see her memory.

"I think it is required to stress the severity of Mr Malfoy's actions towards you." Prodding it for a few moments, Percy eventually found the right part and the figures of she and Lucius rose out of the slivery pool. The entire courtroom watched in horror as his hand connected with her face at an alarming speed and she was sent flying into a corner. Percy froze the memory on an image of her terrified face where you could just see the purplish imprint of the snake that had been left on her cheek by his ring.

"What did you do after this?" he asked. "Because, from what we see here, he looked prepared to severely beat you."

"I think he realised what he had done." She said quietly, her hand unconsciously drifting to her cheek. "Because he stopped, but I ran as fast as my feet could go."

"Where did you run?"

"As far away as I could get without leaving the house. I got some ice from the kitchen and then went outside to get some fresh air."

"Did he come after you?"

"Of course," she replied, "I don't think he could believe what he'd done. He tried to apologise and he looked at my cheek."

"What damage had you sustained?"

"Well, my lip had popped, my cheek was substantially bruised and an imprint from his ring was in the middle of the bruising. I had a snake shaped bruise in the middle of my cheek. I didn't let him get his words out; I ran again and got changed." She explained. "He tried to get me to stay but I apparated straight back home."

"How did you explain your injuries to your brother and friends?"

"I didn't, well; I hid the worst from them and sorted that out myself. When there was only a little bit of bruising I let them into my room and just said that I'd walked into a door."

"And they accepted that excuse?"

"Did they have any reason to think anything else?"

"So, in light of these events," he summed up, "I take it that you were most unwilling to go near Mr Malfoy?"

"Indeed," she nodded, "I hadn't felt that afraid since the week he had first captured me."

"So," he picked up what looked like a newspaper clipping, "why is it that a photo of yourself and Mr Malfoy graced the front page of the Daily Prophet a mere five days later?"

"On the Monday morning after that incident," she explained, "I received a letter that had been sealed with the Malfoy crest."

"What were its contents?"

"It was a ticket to the Quidditch World Cup Final that was being held in Australia," she explained, "there was a small card with it that had times and locations of various Portkeys."

"Was there no note considering the person who had sent it?"

"No, but the card quivered when I touched it so, when I went to pack, a simple spell revealed the hidden message."

"And that was?"

"Just one word," she replied, "please."

"No long apology?"

"No, but the one word hit me harder than a long spiel about how sorry he was. It was as if he couldn't write anything more than that."

"This must have been quite a dilemma for you," he commented, "considering the severity of what had happened."

"It was very hard." She nodded. "Although it didn't take me long to make my mind up. I packed and apparated straight to Wiltshire."

"Why?" he asked in amazement. "Why did you return to something you had wanted to escape for so long?"

"Because I didn't want to escape anymore." She said quietly. "That's not to say that I was pleasant to him at all," she continued, "I was quite rude, dressed scruffily and didn't speak to him at all during the day and I ignored him completely all the way through dinner."

"How did he look?"

"He looked quite drawn actually," she told the room, casting her mind back, "as if he hadn't been sleeping properly."

"Did you feel sorry for him?"

"Not at first," she shook her head, "but I followed him after he stormed off at dinner and he looked, just, well, wretched."

"So how did that make you feel?"

"I pitied him, and I missed him," she confessed, "it was odd to be there with him and to have barely spoken."

"What did you do to remedy this?" he questioned. "How could you even bear to be near him after what he had done?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, "despite what he had done to me I wanted to forgive him because there was no way he wasn't sorry."

"What did you do?" He pressed the question.

"I kissed him." She said quietly. "I kissed him. I reacquainted myself with him. He didn't do anything at first, he let me lead."

"So you made up?"

"In a sense, yes." She nodded. "We had make up sex if that's what you mean." She added with a smirk. "It was very good; he more than made up for what he did."

"Anything else?" he said with a sigh, obviously wishing that she hadn't gone into such detail.

"I had a nightmare." She replied quickly, easily remembering that night.

"Did it involve You-Know-Who?"

"If by that you mean Voldemort, then yes." She answered sharply. "I see no reason to refer to him as You-Know-Who, however, seeing as he is no longer a threat. To refuse to speak his name just nullifies our victory."

"That's as maybe, but for now would you please tell us the content of your dream."

"What's there to tell?" she shrugged. "I just saw myself caught between Lucius and everyone else. The Dark Mark was on my arm and it burned, only the pain was real and I woke up because my scar hurt so much."

"What did this mean to you?"

"It meant that Voldemort was, most probably, angry." She explained. "Things like that usually happened when he was angry. Our scars would prickle or we would have especially violent dreams."

"Did Mr Malfoy notice?" he asked inquisitively, obviously wondering how such a prominent Death Eater would react.

"Of course he noticed, seeing as I jumped about a foot out of his arms." She said dryly. "As far as I remember, he just held me until the pain stopped."

"And then what?"

"He just made sure I was alright," she said quietly, "and then he remedied to problem." She finished with a small smile.

"And then the next morning, you both travelled out to Australia for the World Cup Final, yes?" he appeared not to have heard her last comment.

"Yes. We arrived at ten o'clock in the evening, Australian time."

"Where were you staying?"

"He had rented a villa on the coast, far from any serious wizarding settlement. The only person that knew we were staying together was the house elf that came with the house."

"Surely those you saw at the match must've understood that you were staying with him?"

"They didn't," she shook her head; "why would they have any reason to suspect something?" she asked back. "Lucius Malfoy was still, at that point, an upstanding member of society. It was unthinkable that he would be doing such a thing."

"So you were perfectly confident that no one would see through your ruse? That no one would guess that there was something going on after seeing the two of you together?" he demanded of her, although being careful to make sure that his tone of voice remained inoffensive.

""Well, only one person suspected anything and that was one of the young officials that let our car through."

"What did they notice?"

"Well, I remember the words 'lucky sod. At his age, with a girl like that, I should be so lucky'."

"So he obviously thought that you were an item."

"Well he thought that there was something going on," she shrugged, "but I wasn't really concerned seeing as what does the speculation of one person count?"

"What about everyone else in the top box? Didn't our own esteemed Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, notice anything?"

"I had appeared with Mr Malfoy before Minister Fudge many times before and what he saw was a friendship between what were probably two of his most powerful allies. Am I right Minister?" she asked Fudge with raised eyebrows. Fudge seemed to have gone suddenly deaf and didn't appear to hear what she said. "Well, besides that," she continued, "we smiled for the cameras and no one saw past that."

"And after the match?"

"We went to the victory party on the beach and I went surfing with the Australian team." She explained. "One of the Chasers was a bit too enthusiastic about me and Lucius had to, basically, tell him that he was way out of his league."

"And he held onto this secret how?"

"Well, Lucius did modify the guy's memory so he doesn't remember a thing." She laughed. "And then we walked back to our villa. Everyone there was none the wiser; they looked but they didn't see."

"So you returned to England the next day."

"Yes, except we got there before we had left so we re-lived Thursday night."

"And you had dinner?"

"Yes, Lucius had invited the Minister but he was unable to attend so I kept Lucius company instead." She smirked. "But I'm sure that you wouldn't care to hear the details of that night."

"Indeed," he replied through pursed lips, "what really interests me is what was published in the Daily Prophet that Friday."

"That was interesting," she said dryly, "they suggested that my apparent friendship with Lucius Malfoy was in fact a ploy by Minister Fudge to coerce me into a political career."

"Do you think that there is any truth to that statement?"

"Well, they also prophesised that Fudge had designs on my romantic life as well as my job prospects and was willing to encourage a romantic union between myself and Mr Malfoy."

"I assume that you found the article amusing."

"Very," she replied with a wistful smile, "it was just funny that they were writing this and they never knew how close they were to the actual truth."

"So you enjoyed the danger of discovery?"

"Very much so, it's what forbidden relationships thrive on." She explained enthusiastically. "But by this point, I think Lucius was finding it hard to not show such intimacy or affection in public and, to confess, I didn't much like having to pretend that I hated him."

"So you would've rather just brought your relationship out into the open?" he proposed. "And hang the consequences?"

"No, that would have just been silly." She shot back tersely. "It was just frustrating at times."

"Thank you, Miss Potter." He shuffled his papers into a neat stack and motioned for another of his associates to continue. The next to question her was a woman with thick, elegantly bobbed, greying ginger hair and a thick necklace made up of many silver chains around her neck.

"So, Miss Potter, after you left Mr Malfoy when was the next time you saw him?"

"It was at the Quidditch Cup final at Hogwarts." She replied without hesitation. "Just like the year before."

"What were the stakes then?" she asked inquisitively. "If it was just like the year before?"

"The stakes were higher." She replied. "I received a note the week before the match saying that he was upping the stakes to five hundred Galleons."

"What was it the first time?"

"One hundred."

"Quite an increase." She commented.

"It got bigger," Kathryn continued, "after his son's cronies practically threw me into the stands where his father was sitting, he doubled the stakes."

"Why?"

"I don't know," she shrugged her shoulders, "maybe he wanted to see how far he could push me, how far he could tempt me. Or maybe he just wanted to see if his luck had changed."

"Had it?"

"No. We won by the largest margin in the history of Hogwarts," she said with a beaming grin, "despite the fact that his son tried to beat me to death with one of the Beater's clubs halfway through the game."

"So you won and that meant that he owed you one thousand galleons and you had to spend a proportion of the night with him."

"That is correct. Keeping my side of the bet was not an issue though."

"How did you feel when you won?"

"I wanted him." She confessed in quiet voice. "Harry had Ginny and Ron had Hermione to share their triumph with, I had someone that I could not share my happiness with, at least, not in public."

"That made you frustrated."

"Slightly, seeing as I wouldn't get to see him until much later that night. It was one of the few minutes I was prepared to forget everything and just go and kiss him."

"You obviously didn't."

"Yes," she sighed, "the more rational side of my brain kicked in and warned me of the pitfalls of doing so."

"But you were content to wait?"

"Yeah," she replied with a smile, "it was something worth waiting for."

"What? A thousand Galleons?" she said sceptically. "From what I understand, at that point, you were rich enough."

"It wasn't the money I looked forward to." She replied with a wry smile. "I was thoroughly spoiled for my victory. He also made up for his son's attempts to put me out of the game."

"When did you return to your dormitory?"

"It must have been at about six in the morning." She shrugged. "To be honest I didn't look at the time, I was too busy trying not to get caught out."

"And had no one noticed your absence?"

"They were all too tired to care. I just went to bed and stayed there for the next three days as I woke up later that day unable to move."

"Why?"

"His son had inflicted more serious damage then I had originally thought and my back was quite badly damaged. Basically, I had to stay in bed whilst it healed."

"So, that had been your penultimate meeting?"

"Yes," she nodded, "I supposed that our final encounter, before we would find ourselves facing each other over a battlefield, would be the ball that we were organising."

"And how exactly were you going to orchestrate it so that you were going to end up as his partner?" she asked curiously. "As he had already said that you were to consider yourself taken?"

"Well, considering how suspicious my brother and friends were, it had to happen when it would seem rude to refuse." She explained. "And it had to be a very good show." Nodding and writing something down on her parchment, she handed the questioning on for the final time.

The final member of the Wizengamot that was to question her was a thin, elegant woman with fading blonde hair who must have been a beauty in her day. Her pale blue eyes fixed upon Kathryn for a moment before speaking.

"What did you wear for this ball, Mss Potter?" she asked. "As I assume that Mr Malfoy provided you with something spectacular to wear?"

"He did. A week or so before the ball I received a dress."

"What was it like?"

"It was dark red, Gryffindor red, made of chiffon over an original layer of red silk. It was backless and it flowed out behind me as I walked. It is one of the nicest things I own and, to tell the truth, I was terrified of ruining it because it had probably been made specially."

"Was it a custom piece Mr Malfoy?" she asked him sharply.

"Yes," he nodded, "handmade in Paris."

"And the cost?"

"Three thousand Galleons." There were several gasps from around the courtroom.

"Thank you." She turned back to Kathryn. "Anything else?"

"A few days after the dress arrived, another parcel came."

"And this one contained?"

"A tiara."

"Brand new, like the dress?"

"No, this was clearly a family heirloom. It went perfectly well with the diamond necklace he had given me at the first Christmas Ball."

"Did you wear it?" she asked.

"Yes," Kathryn gave a small nod, "it would have been rude to refuse such a gift."

"What about his son? Were you not worried that he would recognise such an heirloom?"

"I don't think he would have given it to me if he had thought his son would recognise it. Besides, how many priceless heirlooms does the Malfoy family have and how likely is a son to pay attention to jewellery?"

"A fair point."

"I wore them and I'm glad I did because I do believe they had the desired effect of stunning the rest of the school."

"Why do you think he gave them to you?" she asked probingly. "Why, if he did like you as much as you have made us believe, did he care about covering you in diamonds?"

"I think he wanted to make other people jealous." She shrugged. "I think he wanted to make sure that people knew he always had the best."

"That is quite selfish of him."

"I think he wanted to make me feel special too." She added. "He wanted to let me know that I was more than just some girl, that I was someone worthy of his affections."

"And you managed to end up as his partner for the evening I take it?"

"Yes."

"Might I ask how?"

"When the Governors arrived, we greeted them and he asked me then. I told him to make a show of it so it looked spontaneous."

"And your friends suspected nothing?"

"The right looks at the right moment do the trick I find."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, for example, just as he finished asking me I shot a desperate look at the four of them basically to say that I didn't really have a choice."

"How very clever of you."

"It has become a certain skill."

"You have become skilled at lying and deception you mean?"

"I'd say its more skill at keeping secrets, but if that's how you want to put it then fine." She shrugged; apparently unfazed that she had just been called a liar. "Anyway, however you see it, I ended up as his partner and I had a wonderful evening."

"I cannot believe that all this happened and no one suspected anything."

"Well, Professor Snape did have some grievances with what I was doing; apparently thinking that I did not know how dangerous he was and that I was playing a dangerous game."

"How did you react to this?"

"I told him that I was perfectly in control but he didn't give up. Later on in the evening he accused me of having already been, as he put it, had, by Lucius Malfoy. He accused me of hiding something because I defended my mind from his invasion."

"Anything more?"

"His final warning was 'don't say I didn't warn you', terribly prosaic, but two years late nevertheless." She replied dryly. "I was quite tempted to tell him that his warning was two years too late but I think that would have ruined the perfect evening."

"Did anyone else notice anything apart from Professor Snape?"

"Hermione noticed, well, saw something." Kathryn replied without hesitation. "She saw him kiss me whilst we were walking in the gardens."

"And did she confront you?"

"The next day, yes, but she said nothing at the ball."

"And what about after the ball? I think I would be a fool to assume that you returned to your dormitory."

"I didn't." She confirmed with a smirk. "And, apart from being nearly caught by Filch, it was one of the best nights of my life." Sitting next to Dumbledore, Snape came to the stomach churning realisation of how close he had come to catching them that night. He knew he had heard voices and he mentally kicked himself for not remembering that that corridor was where the Room of Requirement was located. How would things have gone if he had caught them? What would he have done? Would the bonds of over twenty years of friendship override his duty to the Order to stop such a thing going on? If he had known, and kept their secret, what kind of position would he have been in when they had finally won? Snape was suddenly quite thankful that he hadn't discovered them that night.

"You said that Miss Granger confronted you the next morning." She recapped. "How did you get back to your dormitory unnoticed the next morning?"

"I walked," she replied with a shrug, "I mean, who was going to be up at that time of the morning."

"And Miss Granger confronted you after you got back?"

"Later that afternoon, yes." She nodded in affirmation. "After everyone was properly awake."

"Did she ask where you had spent the night as I do believe that your absence from your dormitory would be noticed?"

"She did ask, just after I got in. I just said that I had spent the night in the Room of Requirement because I had been talking with the Governors and Filch was out on the prowl."

"And your friends believed this?"

"It wasn't necessarily a lie," Kathryn replied with a wry smile, "I had spent the night there and Filch had been on the prowl; they understood that I didn't want to get caught out of bed and wandering the corridors in the dead of night."

"And how did you explain what Miss Granger saw?" she reverted back to the original question.

"I verified her original suspicions that he just cornered me and dived in," Kathryn explained, "they were still quite angry because, apparently, that wasn't part of the plan. They were worried that it would give him cause to expect more. Of course, they didn't know that he was already getting much more."

"And they accepted this?"

"They had no reason to believe otherwise," she shrugged, "they were convinced after some terse arguing and severe indignation on my part."

"How fortunate for you, that you could convince them so well."

"I'd had practice." She replied dryly. In her mind she knew the next event that her questioner would tackle, and she knew that any chance of leniency towards Lucius would hinge upon her answers.

"And, after you left him that morning, when was the next time you saw Mr Malfoy?"


	67. Chapter 67

A/N - The final installment of day two.....she rises quite admirabily to his defence but is also forced to reveal more of her feelings than she would like. Of course, it's not a given that such feelings will be acceptable to family, friends or the public. The 'Love' question is raised again...is she prepared to answer???

Read, review and enjoy!!!

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"As I had predicted, the next time I saw him was when we were locking wands. When we found ourselves on opposing sides for the first time."

"You actually found yourself face to face with him in a combat situation?"

"Oh yes," she replied without hesitation, "I had always expected it. I had never doubted that there would come a time where we would find ourselves like this. I had always worried about it; wondering what he would do, what I would do. Wondering whether everything would be forgotten or whether he would hold true to everything that had happened between us."

"And did he?"

"Well, I ended up cornered by Bellatrix Lestrange and he stepped in and sent her off on her merry way; telling her that he would take care of me."

"What did he do in reality, seeing as you obviously lived to tell the tale?"

"Well, at first I was terrified that he was actually going to fight me as he didn't lower his wand." She said honestly. "So I readied myself for a fight. As it turned out, he was just teasing." She explained with a dry smile. "He was quite grateful that I was still safe."

"Did he say anything?"

"Well, I told him not to do anything stupid and get himself killed. He told me he would only do that if I took the same precaution. Of course, that was quite a task considering what I head ahead of me at that point."

"You refer to your eventual confrontation with the Dark Lord I presume?" she clarified, apparently quite interested as she was making many notes as Kathryn spoke. "As for your other confrontations with Death Eaters, how many of them do you take credit for?"

"How is that relevant?"

"I'm just curious."

"Well," Kathryn took a deep breath, unsure how the gathered spectators would react to hearing what she had done, "I pretty much dispatched of McNair, with some help from Hermione, and I took on Rowle and won. Dolohov scarpered but I got him too."

"Rowle and Dolohov are now being treated for severe burns in Azkaban," she supplied, "are you aware of the fact that you nearly killed him?"

"It was war, there are losses," she shrugged, "anyway, to continue; I killed Avery just out of sheer luck. I just pointed my wand behind me and hoped it would hit a mark."

"Anyone else?"

"I believe I severely wounded Goyle Senior."

"How?"

"I transformed and bit him in the neck." She said in an offhand manner. "The best way to incapacitate an enemy. There were a few others that I think I hit or helped to incapacitate, Greyback for one, but it's hard to keep track of these things when you are trying to stay alive." There was nothing offhand about that statement. "Oh, and of course, there is the small fact that my brother and I killed Voldemort."

"But you had no problem killing?"

"I tried not to kill if I could but these things happen. You have to remember that these people would not hesitate at the thought of killing you so you have to respond with the same ferocity in order to stay alive."

"Interesting." She mused.

"No, not interesting," Kathryn countered, "just plain true. It was war; kill or be killed."

"But, as reports of the battle have told us, you and your brother were believed dead." She looked down at her papers. "It was believed that You-Know-Who had triumphed."

"I will not go into the details, as I wish that they remain private, but you are right when you say that we were presumed dead."

"Only presumed?"

"Voldemort's curse did not work. For the second time, Harry and I survived the killing curse." She explained. "We fell to the ground but we came-to moments later."

"And this went unnoticed?"

"Voldemort had also fallen and the rest of the Death Eaters were too busy making sure that their Master was alright to bother with us." Her memories of how terrifying that had been were still fresh and clear in her mind. "Eventually, he sent one of his Death eaters to check that we were dead. He sent Lucius."

"And Mr Malfoy lied to his master."

"He did." Kathryn nodded. "He lied because he knew I was alive. The man that you chain down is the reason that Voldemort did not triumph, the reason that you are now not under the thumb of the most evil wizard we have ever known."

"Thank you for clearing that up, it was most enlightening information."

"My pleasure." Kathryn replied dryly, smiling briefly down at Lucius.

"Might I just ask you one more thing?" she rifled through her papers once more.

"You already did but I'll humour you." Kathryn replied dryly. She appeared to have gone sporadically deaf as she made no sign that she had heard her.

"What is your opinion on the obvious age gap between yourself and Mr Malfoy?" Kathryn grimaced slightly, not really knowing how to answer such a question as she had never really thought about it.

"Well," she began, although not really sure how she was going to continue, "I suppose it was more than a bit strange at first because the father of one of the people I most hate was raping me."

"And now?"

"Now," she took a deep breath, "now I couldn't give a damn." She finished quickly. "I mean, he may be twice my age but what does that really matter? Something like that shouldn't really matter in the grand scheme of things."

"I think it is of great matter considering the situation."

"Well, I see why it might be relative in terms of your forming opinions of his conduct when this all began." She compromised. "But in considering where we stand now, age is immaterial."

"Do you find Mr Malfoy attractive?"

"In what way?"

"Both physically and materialistically." Lucius thought he saw a faint blush creep into her cheeks when she realised what she was going to have to say.

"Well," she said slowly, determined to keep them hanging on her every word, "I suppose from a purely selfish standpoint, Lucius is a perfect choice for any woman wanting to secure her place in life. He is more than adequately equipped to keep someone, or several people for that matter, in substantial comfort for a prolonged period of time."

"Was this reflected in his treatment of you?"

"At first no but, as things ran their course, I got to experience things that are the sole preserve of the obscenely rich."

"Such as?"

"He took every opportunity to lay diamonds around my neck," she shrugged, as if it was nothing spectacular, "he bought me beautiful clothes and expensive gifts for no apparent reason. I also found that he had bought cases and cases of wine just because it was my favourite."

"Anything else?" she could see people's faces and all she could see was shock.

"Well, you never eat badly and you get very used to the best in terms of cuisine."

"What about physically, Miss Potter, do not avoid the subject." She pushed the other half of the question. "He may have all these material qualities but he is still much older. I am in serious doubt as to the physical attraction on your part. Is his tendency to lavish gifts upon you meant to make up for his physical shortcomings? Is it a bribe to make you stay?"

"You are quite mistaken," she said with a satisfied smirk, "even if he didn't give me gifts or take me to spectacular places, I would still stay." People might not have believed her but for the look of pure sincerity in her eyes. "Whilst he may be older than the companions of some of my peers, he is certainly not physically lacking in any way. I find him utterly handsome." She said in a dreamy voice, her eyes losing their implacable front for just a moment as she spoke of the man bound to the chair before them. "I like tangling my fingers in his hair; I like curling up in his arms at night. I like waking up next to him in the morning and staying in bed until noon. I like knowing that I'm the only one that matters and I love that it is forbidden." She finished zealously.

"So the forbidden aspect of your relationship, as I assume that it is now a relationship, is what makes it exciting for you?"

"No, it simply adds another dimension to it that other relationships do not have. For example, the fact that my brother is going out with Ginny is perfectly acceptable but then that relationship lacks that indescribable frisson that comes from knowing you are doing something you shouldn't."

"What about as a lover?" Kathryn couldn't believe that she dared touch on that subject.

"I don't see how it is of any consequence."

"I'm asking all the same, Miss Potter."

"Fine," Kathryn replied shortly, "as you wish." She took a deep breath before speaking again. "I admit that everything began under less than pleasant circumstances, but that has changed. I am no longer an object for him to use and abuse. I am someone for him to please, I am an equal."

"Please," she interjected with mild scorn, "I doubt that Lucius Malfoy considers anyone as his equal."

"I do not think that you are in a position to make such a claim."

"Why? Are you?"

"I am privy to many things. Things about which most can only speculate."

"Do enlighten us."

"I am aware of the exact amount contained in the Malfoy vault at Gringotts. I also have complete access to all Malfoy funds; I am not just in a symbolic position. That doesn't strike me as a duty he would bestow upon someone he did not consider an equal."

"So you are actually in control?" she asked inquisitively. "We were curious as to who has complete control as his attorneys have been keeping tight-lipped over the issue."

"I have not broadcast the fact and did not wish to but, seeing as you wish proof, I have no choice."

"Well, aside from that information, would you please return to the original question." She asked, not meeting Kathryn's eyes as she wrote furiously.

"Yes, alright, yes!" Kathryn answered in an exasperated voice. "He is a fantastic lover. He knows exactly how to please me and I am glad for it. It has been quite a learning curve but I have not had to endure the messy, adolescent fumbling of my peers. True, I have nothing to compare him to but I think it is safe to say that it is good." She smirked at him down in his chair and he smirked back up at her. "Very good." She embellished. "In fact, I cannot imagine anyone else and I care not for your scorn or your disapproval."

Lucius thought she was very brave to go that far and, although he tried not to show it, he was very proud that she thought that he was that good. What she was saying was very true. Things had started off badly, true, but she had grown so much in the two years that he had known her. She had undergone an incredible transformation; from a terrified, but none the less passionate, young girl into a fiery young woman who could silence a room with a look and who was certainly his equal.

"So you care not for how this affair has damaged your standing in the eyes of society?"

"I think I have already demonstrated that." she replied coolly.

"But you have lost your status as a hero. Even though you are the other half of the duo that finally defeated the Dark Lord, you have been barely recognised by the press, and your brother has received the most recognition."

"That does not change the fact that it was still me. No matter how many disparaging editorials and articles they print, it will not change the fact that it was my brother and I who defeated Voldemort. I do believe you have forgotten that, if it were not for the actions of a certain Death Eater, we would not be alive now. Considering what I have learned about how long it took to sort out everything that was happening in the Great Hall, I would have died from my injuries before they got to me."

"I find it surprising that you had not succumbed to them before you reached the Dark Lord."

"Well, I think it helped that I had been building up to that moment my entire life. Also, armour made out of Hungarian Horntail dragon hide did help stave off most of the minor curses." She explained.

"And so, for this unworthy, wicked, evil man you are willing to risk everything?"

"I am." She said determinedly. "He is the principal reason my brother and I are alive. He lied to Voldemort even though being found out would cost him his life. Worthiness is entirely in the eye of the beholder."

"Thank you." She motioned to Cornelius Fudge to indicate that she was finished.

"Well," the Minister for Magic shuffled his papers back into a neat stack, "I believe it wise to conclude this session here in order for the Wizengamot to reflect upon what they have heard." There was a muttering of agreement form his colleagues. "We shall reconvene tomorrow at eleven."

Without a further word, the entire Wizengamot stood and left the courtroom. The sound in the courtroom immediately rose to a roaring din as everyone began to talk at once, paying no mind to the fact that the objects of their gossip were well within earshot. Instead of remaining where she was, like she had done previously, Kathryn practically ran down the stairs, coming to stand next to Lucius. He remained chained steadfastly down and, although she barely looked at him as she glared at virtually everyone leaving the courtroom, Harry noticed the way her hand that bore the eternity ring was gently entwined with his.

"You know I'm not leaving Scrimgeour so you might as well stop waiting." She said dryly as the Aurors made no move to release him. Rolling his eyes, Scrimgeour motioned to one of the guards to release Lucius from his bonds. Once the shining chains had disappeared, Lucius stood and, after flexing his stiff muscles, wrapped his arms around her.

"Good finish." He whispered in her ear.

"It was true." She murmured back. "Not a word of a lie."

"Had I the opportunity to speak, you would have received that same praise back."

"Enough of the touching sentiment." Scrimgeour snapped cruelly. "I am not here to pander to your every whim."

"As I understand it," she retorted acerbically as they started to walk towards the doors, "you are here because your administration failed to bring any hope and, during your brief tenure, Albus Dumbledore was thought lost. You are here because you failed."

"That may be so but you are here because you are a traitor." Scrimgeour countered. "I think I have the better deal."

"No. I am here because I got caught doing something I shouldn't." She corrected him coolly. "Whether I did anything traitorous has yet to be determined."

"Oh please," Scrimgeour sneered, "I doubt that people will see what has happened as anything other than treachery."

"Don't be so sure." She replied in the same cool, aloof tone that she knew would incense Scrimgeour because she wasn't rising to his bait. Scrimgeour didn't reply, instead waving his wand to open the concealed doors through which they had emerged that morning. "So you're not taking the public route this time?" she commented.

"Not after your little show last time." Scrimgeour snapped at her. "And this is a route you cannot take."

"Oh don't worry," she shot back in an airy tone, "I only take the path I decide." Giving Lucius one final, smouldering kiss, she swept back up the stairs and left them to wherever they were going.

She declined taking the lift, instead using the time it took her to walk up the several flights of stairs to reflect on the day. She thought that it had gone well but the proof of that would be in Rita Skeeter's summation of what had happened in the Prophet tomorrow. It was likely to be a painful reading experience, she knew Rita Skeeter well enough to be assured of that fact. What was a more unknown quantity was how Fudge was going to try and discredit her. There hadn't been an ounce of falsity in what she had told the court over the past few days yet she knew that Fudge would exploit every perceived crack in her defence or any topic that she found uncomfortable.

The Atrium was, again, heaving as she emerged from the stairwell and she had to fight her way through the crowds as flashbulbs went off in her face. Without Lucius, or anyone for that matter, at her side they seemed to think that they now had leave to swarm around her. She kept her head down as hands pulled at her and tried to stop her from leaving. Screwing her eyes up in concentration, she focused on the wand that she held in her hand and hoped that her plan would work. Raising her right hand as far as she could, given how many people were crowded around her, she brought the silver tip of the cane down as hard as she could on the floor whilst concentrating on the incantation she needed. Seconds later, the crowds of people all around her were thrown back with incredible force as her spell worked. Taking a deep breath, she straightened herself out and walked briskly away before they could work out what had happened and get up again.

Falling into the back of her car, the driver seemed to sense that she needed to leave as a matter of some urgency and instantly sped into the London traffic. After negotiating small lanes and a gridlocked city centre at speeds that she didn't like to think about, they were soon on the motorway back home. She spent the entirety of the journey in contemplative thought and she did not smile once. As soon as she got back to the house she shed her cloak, shoes, waistcoat and trousers before she collapsed onto a chaise lounge in the study. Pulling a velvety throw over herself, she closed her eyes and drifted off into an exhausted sleep.

Later on that day, after having been let in by a House Elf, Harry Ron and Hermione climbed the stairs and took the appropriate turning for the study. The House Elf had told them that she was in the study but had given them no information as to what she was doing. Harry tapped lightly on the door and, after getting no response, pushed it open to survey the room inside. The sight that met their eyes shocked them all. A trail of clothes led over to a chaise lounge where Kathryn was lying, one arm lolling over the side, her head buried in several cushions. Her legs were askew and a dark green throw was over her, although half was falling off. Her hair was messy and it was hard to distinguish her head beneath the masses of jet black waves. If Harry hadn't known better, he would have said she had fallen asleep whilst drunk. All that was missing from the picture was an empty spirit bottle dangling from her hand.

"Kathryn." Harry called quietly, not wanting to startle her. Unfortunately, it did not have the desired effect as she jumped violently awake, rolled over and, tangled in the throw, landed with a thump on the floor. Groaning in pain, she pulled the throw up over her face and curled up on the rug.

"What do you want?" she asked from beneath the throw. "You scared me, thought you were Death Eaters or something."

"We just wanted to see if you were ok, you just looked exhausted when you left." Hermione explained, kneeling down next to her on the floor.

"Well, as you can see, you were right." She remarked dryly, pulling the cover off her head and sitting up. "I must look like I've just woken up after a rough night." She added, swiping her hair out of her face.

"Do you want a cup of tea?" Hermione asked helpfully.

"What time is it?" she rubbed her eyes and straightened her glasses.

"It's almost eight." Harry told her as her stomach gave a large rumble. "Food might be in order too."

"Have you eaten?" she asked, standing up and wrapping the throw around her.

"Are you kidding," Ron laughed, "Mum was cooking as soon as we got in the house."

"Well, I haven't so I hope you don't think me rude if I eat whilst you talk." She said, clapping her hands sharply, a House Elf instantly appeared and bowed low.

"What can I do for mistress?" she squeaked.

"I need some dinner," she said quickly, "just anything you can make. Nothing special."

"Yes mistress." The House Elf disappeared with another crack.

"I'll be two seconds." She disappeared out of the door, the throw dragging out behind her like an elaborate gown.

"How much of this do you think she can take?" Hermione whispered as soon as she was gone. "I mean, it's only been three days and she's already exhausted. How will she cope because we all know that this will go on for weeks?"

"She coped with everything before this, I mean, the thing she did to her it's amazing she hasn't had a breakdown or something." Harry replied quite frankly. "But I'm worried about tomorrow. Tomorrow she'll have to cope with Fudge trying to discredit her."

"If she's told the truth she should have no problem with that though." Ron shrugged.

"But it's the way he'll do it," Harry explained, "he'll pick on what he thinks is a weakness and exploit it."

"Like what?"

"Like the fact that she hasn't told anyone how she feels about him now. She has kept her heart quite guarded."

"Rightly so." Hermione sniffed.

"But it makes her look as if she is hiding something."

"Well couldn't she just explain how she feels and then she won't appear suspicious?" Ron asked. "That gets rid of that problem."

"She doesn't even know, that's the point." Harry sighed. They did not have the chance to discuss this further as they heard a set of footsteps coming down the hallway. Kathryn appeared in the doorway moments later swathed in her favourite dressing gown of green velvet. Harry had to admit that she looked quite distinctly regal, yet rumpled at the same time. The large necklace was still sitting round her neck but she had added a pair of black drawstring pyjama bottoms to her ensemble for modesty's sake.

"You coming?" she asked. "My dinner's ready." They all followed her down the hallway and into a room they had never been in before.

"What's this?" Harry asked as they stepped into a small, tastefully appointed room that was hidden behind a barely noticeable door.

"The family dining room." She explained. "You don't think I eat in the main dining room all the time do you?"

"Well, we just assumed that it was the only one." Ron shrugged.

"It's depressing to eat in such a large room all by yourself." She said; sitting on one of the chairs with one leg crossed beneath her. Taking the steaming bowl of pasta that had been waiting for her on the table; she rested it on her knee and delved in with a fork.

"I can't believe you went back to him after what he did to you." Harry said quietly, not looking her in the eye, after she had taken several mouthfuls of pasta.

"It's complicated." She sighed. "I don't know why I went back." She took another few mouthfuls of pasta.

"I think that everything about this is complicated." Harry corrected her as she continued to eat.

"Never." She drawled, rolling her eyes. "Thank you Mr State-the-obvious."

"Well, it is." Harry shrugged.

"I know." She sighed. "But there you go; Fudge is just going to try and rip it to shreds."

"If it's true then you should have no problem." Hermione reminded her kindly.

"I know it should be no problem but it's what he says that will be the problem." She replied between mouthfuls. "He can still discredit me in the eyes of the public." She set the empty bowl back on the table and walked over to the large window that overlooked the gardens. "And that, at the end of the day, is what will really matter."

"That's ridiculous." Hermione exclaimed. "They should come to their decision in a fair and impartial manner, not influenced by the ranting of the press."

"They say that they do but, with people like Rita Skeeter stirring up public opinion, they are hard pressed to come to a neutral decision."

"The decision won't be for weeks yet anyway." Harry shrugged. "You know it's going to be a drawn out battle. This is one Fudge won't be able to dispatch easily."

"We all know what the verdict will be though." She spat bitterly, not looking any of them in the eye. "His guilt is assured."

"He's Lucius Malfoy," Hermione reminded her, "he's wormed his way out of these things before."

"Everything I have said has condemned him." She shook her head. "Even with no other evidence they will find him guilty. I have handed them proof of his Death Eater activities to them on a platter."

"These things can be overturned." Hermione said hopefully, although knowing there was little chance of such a thing.

"You say that," Kathryn replied quietly, "but I know that it is the last thing you want to see happen." Her voice was pure ice, completely devoid of emotion. "You would be perfectly happy to see him rot in Azkaban for the rest of his days or, better yet, see him kissed."

"We never said that." Ron replied in a calm, but slightly terse, tone.

"I know but it's implied, I mean, you can't pretend that you really accept this." She shot back.

"Well obviously." Harry retorted. "How can you expect us to be happy?"

"I don't." She swept out of the door, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. They followed her at a run as she strode towards the main staircase.

"After all he's done, everything we've found out, you do not want to see him punished?" Harry cried out after her, trying to make her stop. "After what he did to you?" he baited her some more. "Are you just going to forget all the people that died because of him? All the people that died because of the ideals he stands for? Are you going to forget our parents?" he wished he hadn't said the last part as soon as the words slipped through his lips. She froze half way down the stairs and turned to face him, fire blazing in her eyes.

"How dare you suggest such a thing!" she replied quietly, her voice shaking with anger. "I would never forget them but what do you expect me to do?"

"Forget him! Forget all this and come home!"

"So you can watch me pine away without leaving the house?" she shouted back, tears now welling properly in her eyes. "Or would you rather I pined away here, to remain forever lonely and unhappy; forever waiting for a knock at the door or an owl bearing news? I have no desire to live such an empty life. "

"We just want you to come home."

"This is home." She said softly, not looking him in the eye. "Do you think I wake up every day in awe of this place? It's just a house." She turned away and swept down the remaining stairs, knowing that she was lying when she said this it was just a house. It would never be just a house to her. It held far too many memories to ever be anything as impersonal as 'just a house'. True, not all of the memories were pleasant, but they were memories all the same and they were forever embedded in these fine rooms. They were still following her as she walked through the concealed door beneath the stairs and hurried down the steps into the cellars.

Not a word was said as she selected a bottle from the rows upon rows in the wine cellar and returned upstairs. She could see Hermione's disapproving face as she opened the bottle and poured herself a healthy measure.

"Why are you still here?" she asked after taking a long drink.

"Let's just say we've gotten used to your fluctuating mood." Harry replied dryly, although he still looked angry.

"I'd rather be left alone." She sprawled herself out onto a chaise lounge and gazed languidly into the burgundy liquid.

"We don't hate you, you know." Ron told her, sitting down with Hermione opposite Kathryn.

"But you do not approve." She shot back. "And that is what will be said when Fudge inevitably calls you up to testify."

"How can you expect us to approve?" Harry asked coldly. "When you are hanging off the arm of a Death Eater?"

"I do not hang off his arm." She snapped back. "He considers me his equal, not his inferior."

"Oh please," Harry drawled, "you as good as hang off his arm."

"When have you ever seen me like that?" she retorted, anger very obvious in her voice. "All you have ever seen are the pictures in the papers when I had to pretend. All you saw was what I wanted you to see."

"I doubt that even he could've orchestrated such a thing." Hermione replied with a shake of her head.

"Not at first, but after a while it became a mutually agreed charade." She shrugged, sipping her wine. "A mutually desired charade."

"So you were quite happy to deceive everyone?"

"I didn't want you to get hurt." She snapped fiercely.

"The Order could have protected you well enough; you didn't need to keep it a secret." Hermione pointed out.

"Well I am sorry for not thinking logically." Kathryn replied dryly. "Of course, after a while the charade became a necessity not to protect you, but to protect us. Like I said, the best place to hide something is right under someone's nose." She paused for some more wine. "You were bound to suspect something if I just walked up to him and talked to him so I made you believe that I was keeping him satisfied to protect the school; any suspicions you had were, I assume, thwarted by the fact that I had mentioned such an idea."

The three of them didn't know what to say, for someone they knew to be wilful and passionate; this seemed incredibly cold and calculated. Harry was beginning to wonder if he even knew his sister at all, considering this new side of her that had been revealed. Harry watched her for a moment as she drained the last of the wine from her glass and stood up.

"Do you love him?" he asked abruptly, hoping that she would answer.

"I'm going to bed." She told them, apparently having gone sporadically deaf. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Do you love him?" Harry asked again, determined to get an answer. Pausing in the doorway, she turned round and looked at him sombrely.

"I don't know." She replied quietly.

"Then what does that ring mean?"

"I don't know." She repeated in the same quiet voice before disappearing out of the door.

Sighing, Harry rose and walked over to the fireplace. Mr Weasley had been able to arrange Malfoy Manor to be connected to Grimmauld Place through the Floo network so they wouldn't have to apparate all the time. Disappearing in a whirl of flame, the three of them left with more questions to trouble their thoughts.


	68. Chapter 68

A/N - Another couple of chapters for you to read. Apologies for the absence again, but my exams are over at the start of June, at which point I shall be able to do much more writing than at the moment....it's really rubbish, this story feels quite unloved....

Anyway, in this chapter we glimpse the darker side of Fudge and see just how far he is prepared to go in the pursuit of 'justice', and Lucius shows how much he cares.

Please read and enjoy and leave me a review. Reviews = smiles!

* * *

Upstairs, staring up at the dark green hangings, she pondered what Harry had asked her. Did she love him? Loving him was most likely to have drastic consequences, not that what she had already done hadn't had such results. Closing her eyes, she shifted beneath the duvet, trying to imagine that he was there as that usually gave her a better night's sleep in the cavernous bed. This was not to be her fortune tonight, however, as Harry's words repeated themselves over and over in her head. She tossed and turned, kicking at the duvet until she was exhausted. Burying her head in the pillows, she finally drifted off only to be woken a few hours later by a House Elf bringing her breakfast and the morning edition of the Prophet.

As usual, she was on the front page; the photograph taken the previous morning in the foyer outside Courtroom ten was enlarged beneath the headline 'STRESS BEGINNING TO SHOW…' Rita Skeeter's exposé was advertised as pages two to five but, as she turned the page, she saw that the headline was continued on page two. '…OR IS IT?' the title finished, above a photo of her the previous afternoon striding through the piles of tumbled reporters.

"Oh dear." She sighed, sipping her tea, going right off the plate of sausage, bacon, beans and toast that had been set before her. "This cannot be good." Setting her breakfast aside, she read as fast as she could to try and get through as much of the article as she could before she had to get up and get dressed. In short Rita Skeeter had, with surprising accuracy and neutrality. True, she had exaggerated slightly when it came to descriptions of what he had done to her and how she had hidden things from her friends. For example, she was described as 'maliciously concealing everything from her brother and trusted friends' whilst Lucius, as she had predicted a day or two ago, garnered the kindly descriptors of 'brutal rapist' and 'consummate evil'.

However, whilst the general facts were correct, save for a little exaggeration, it was Skeeter's own opinion on events that did the most damage. In a lengthy, opinionated piece that took up an entire page; she surmised that, although innocent at the beginning of the whole affair, she was definitely culpable with regard to her actions on and after the first anniversary. Skeeter also found her actions to be 'stupid and childish – hiding her problems instead of going to someone, such as Dumbledore, that could help'. She also found great scandal that she was in possession of forty five million galleons worth of diamond jewellery.

"Well, why don't you try thinking clearly when you are terrified?" she said scathingly as she read the rest of what she had to say. Regaining her appetite, she buttered some toast and ate it quickly as she finished reading; it was fast approaching the time to leave.

Jumping in the shower, she stood beneath the hot jet of water for a long time in an attempt to look refreshed after her restless night. Towel drying her hair, she skimmed through her wardrobe trying to find something appropriate but not too ostentatious. After yesterday's episode and the article in the Prophet, she didn't want to appear lavishly dressed. Catching sight of the clock, she quickly settled on a pair of smart black trousers, a grey silk shirt and a light black cloak as her attire for the day. She didn't care that her hair was wet as she pulled on her shirt and fastened the string of grey pearls around her neck. The sun was out but there was the chill of autumn beginning to appear in the air. They were into the last halcyon days of summer and instead of spending it relaxing in a state of unparalleled freedom that they had never enjoyed, she was bound to London for the fourth time that week to be placed under scrutiny for something that she did not feel was wrong.

Climbing in the car, she tried not to dwell on what the paper had said or what Fudge was probably going to do today as they sped towards London. She knew that she would have to stay calm but she wasn't sure how long she could maintain such a front if Fudge really began to push her buttons. She would be able to do very little in terms of challenging his questions, it wasn't like the past two days when she had been questioned on matters relevant to the trial; here Fudge could challenge what she said and, in the worst case, propose another outcome for certain situations and try to sell it as the truth.

After yesterdays experience, people did not crowd her as she strode through the atrium and she was unhindered by the press. They, sensibly, kept their distance and let her go unquestioned despite wanting reaction to Rita Skeeter's article. Their questions were, however, most probably answered by the murderous gleam that flickered in her eyes whenever a flashbulb went off for, although they kept their mouths shut, they still blinded her as she walked. Taking the lift down for a change, she stared defiantly out at them as the grille closed. Although she wanted to look strong and undaunted, her entrance would probably be described as cocky and arrogant.

She didn't wait in the corridor for him to arrive like she had done previously; instead she cut a swathe through the people already beginning to assemble in the courtroom. They parted easily for her, not making eye contact and, for those who know her, not showing any familiarity. She stood on her little podium and stared them down until the Wizengamot filed in and Lucius was escorted into the room. Looking up at her, he gave her a wan smile as he was chained down to the stiff wooden chair. He looked slightly paler than he had the previous day and, fleetingly, she wondered how much more of Azkaban and the Dementors he could stand.

Looking up at her, standing tall despite knowing what was to come, he felt his chest swell with pride. She was wearing the string of pearls that he had found on his trip to Paris and she looked nothing short of formidable; her fingers running idly over the serpent shaped top of his cane. She looked perfectly deserving of the Malfoy name; exuding the power with which his family had been associated for generations.

"Now, Miss Potter," Fudge began once everyone had settled down, "over the past two days you have given your testimony to the Wizengamot and, whilst it was very informative, there are a few points which I would like to expand further."

"As you wish." She sighed.

"I do not wish to appear rude," he began, although Kathryn knew that he had no such intentions, "but I cannot believe that you betrayed nothing to him. I cannot see any reason for him to so dramatically change his treatment of you."

"Can't you?" she had thought the reason was obvious.

"You cannot say that you slipped him no information whatsoever." Fudge scoffed. "Not even small bits, like what was planned next, or the location of your headquarters."

"You don't get it, do you?" she replied scathingly, again taking on the tone of Professor Snape when addressing students. "It's called willpower. That is how you cope with things like that. Considering the things I knew, anything I revealed, no matter how small, would have been a devastating blow to the Order. As for the location, well, you have heard of the Fidelius charm, have you not?" Fudge shifted in his seat, probably wishing he hadn't asked such a question. "I could've given him the exact location and he would have looked in the window and seen nothing."

"So nothing of the Order's plans passed your lips over the whole period of nearly two years?"

"Minister, I'm beginning to wonder if you fully understand the definite meaning of no." She drawled in a bored tone. "I'd happily explain it to you but I fear that it would waste the Wizengamot's time. Give me Veritaserum if you like, but I assure you that the answer will be the same. Why do you think he gave up asking me?"

"Very well, Miss Potter, you have made your point." Fudge changed the topic, an embarrassed flush creeping into his cheeks. "Let's move on."

"What a good idea." She murmured just loud enough for people to hear. Clearing his throat loudly to quell the titters of laughter that shot around the room, Fudge shuffled his papers until there was silence once more.

"I would like to move onto something which I found to be quite disturbing throughout your entire testimony."

"I thought you found all of it disturbing?" she shot back dryly.

"That's as maybe, but for now I would like to focus upon your apparent lack of moral judgement throughout this entire affair."

"That depends on how you define morals, Minister." She interjected. "My morals, I think you'll find, were unquestionable; I did not break under pressure, torture and humiliation. Despite being faced with numerous offers of release, I did not give in because it would cost too much. I have sacrificed more than you can imagine."

"That maybe so, Miss Potter, I, however, am referring to the time between the twenty third of August last year and January of this year."

"I thought you might be."

"You showed no apparent care that, during this period you were committing adultery. You said yourself that you were no longer a toy; that you had been elevated to the position of a lover."

"It was never explicitly stated." She shot back. "Get your language right. Nothing was said and no conscious decision was made, things just changed."

"Proper wording or not you were still an adulteress. You were the other woman in a marriage. You were, for a short period of time, Lucius Malfoy's mistress."

"His wife died." She shrugged. "That, in a sense, legitimised everything. I never considered myself his mistress. I never really knew what I was."

"But you were happy that she had died?"

"I most certainly was not." She retorted fiercely. "As I believe I demonstrated yesterday, I could not bear the thought of him having killed for me."

"But ultimately?"

"To tell the truth," she worded this carefully as she knew he was trying to make her appear heartless, "it has proven advantageous considering the way things have developed. Had he still a wife I doubt that I would have survived beyond the final battle because there was no way that he could've helped me without her knowledge."

"So you count Lucius Malfoy as the reason for your survival?"

"Why no, Minister, I healed myself." She responded in a tone so sharp it could have cut glass. "Of course I consider myself alive because of his actions."

"Are you not then beholden to him for such actions? Are you doing this because you owe him?" Fudge pushed her, trying to make her snap. She simply shook her head coolly and replied in a perfectly calm voice.

"I am doing this because I choose to, not because it has been asked or demanded of me."

"Very well." Fudge sighed, obviously not wanting to get into a protracted argument. "What about children, Miss Potter?" he asked, a fiendish glint in his eyes.

"What about them?"

"Just how many pregnancies have you terminated over the past two years?"

"How dare you!" she breathed, her friends understanding that the quiet tone made her all the more dangerous.

"It is a legitimate question." Fudge shrugged.

"Do you really think we were stupid enough to allow that to happen?" she asked furiously. "And what gives you the right to assume that my first course of action would be to terminate a pregnancy, or that his would be to order it?"

"I never suggested…" he flustered.

"But you were thinking it." She shot back. "You assume that he would not support such a thing. That he would be ashamed."

"I am just postulating Miss Potter, from Mr Malfoys reputation; that any child by you would not be looked upon favourably."

"I have yet to find that out." She replied stiffly, indicating that his line of questioning was over, but also leaving the audience to digest the hint that she was not ruling out bearing his child.

"Moving on," Fudge grimaced and shuffled uncomfortably in his seat, "Madam Umbridge," he nodded to Umbridge who was sitting beneath them, "and I have several concerns regarding your supposed injuries sustained during your confrontation with He Who Must Not Be Named, and his Death Eaters." The very mention of the word 'supposed' made her sense that this was not going to be good.

"And those queries are?" she responded, keeping her face impassive despite the fact that her heart was racing.

"As I am sure everyone in this courtroom knows, memories can be fabricated and altered and, as you were seemingly unconscious for a prolonged period of time, we could not help but wonder if these memories were fabricated as his alibi."

"So you are basically saying that you think I lied to you? That I invented such horrific wounds to try and offer him some chance of redemption in your eyes?"

"We are stating that it is a possibility." Fudge clarified. "There is a simple spell that will show the truth."

"It's called Veritaserum, Fudge," she said in a manner very much akin to Snape on a bad day, "you do not even have to lift your wand."

"This spell is completely accurate though," Fudge argued, "seeing as you managed to fool everyone thanks to your skill as an Occlumens, it is not impossible that you have found a way around Veritaserum."

"Veritaserum is near impossible to counter, save for with the antidote."

"But is has been done on rare occasions," Fudge countered, "I am simply searching for the absolute truth." She wanted to hex him for trying to sound so righteous.

"I swore an oath to tell you the truth." She reiterated. "Despite what you may think, I honour that."

"How unfortunate that you have no choice in the matter." Fudge sighed, although she knew that he was not sorry at all.

"Indeed." She gave Fudge a look that surpassed even Snape in terms of venomousness.

"Now," Fudge continued in a businesslike tone, "considering as your claimed injuries were centred around your back and sides, it will be necessary for us to see these areas."

"You could just ask me to take my shirt off Fudge." She snapped angrily. "If you'll give me a moment." Lucius couldn't believe what she did next. Remaining where she was, she held her cloak over her chest with one hand whilst she undid the buttons down the front of her shirt with the other. No one could believe what she was doing as they watched her hand slip behind her back. Carefully, she moved the cloak until it was tucked behind her arms and, as she brought her arms down, the silk slipped gracefully off her shoulders where it landed in a pile at her feet. This was followed by the dove grey silk of her underwear. Holding her head high, unwilling to be robbed of her dignity by such a man, she slowly turned on the spot until her back was completely to the entire courtroom and all she could see was the harsh stone wall.

There was a flurry of muttering around the courtroom as she stood there with her back on display. Lucius realised that this was because most of the people sat on the observation benches had never seen her in person before and thus had no idea that she was exactly how she looked in photographs. Her back was elegant and flowing, the lace of her underwear just visible above the waistline of her trousers. In one sweeping motion, she lifted her long hair off her back and draped it over her shoulder to afford them a better view.

"Satisfactory, Minister?" she asked Fudge, turning her head to face him and raising a quizzical eyebrow.

"Perfectly." Fudge replied, looking distinctly ruffled. He obviously couldn't believe what she had just done either. "Right, well, lets get on with this."

Lucius held his breath as Fudge waved his wand but did not speak the incantation. He remembered reading about such spells but he could not recall any of their side effects. He had no doubt that this would instantly disprove what Fudge was saying but he was just worried about what it would do to her. Fudge completed the wand movement and, in the silence of the courtroom, everyone watched as small patches of red began to appear on her back.

Kathryn could not see what was happening, but she was aware of a faint, warm tingling sensation spreading across her back. This tingling sensation, however, also spread to her head, face, ribs and legs. She realised, as the heat intensified, that it was revealing all of her injuries that she had sustained. Soon, however, she began to sense that something was wrong. The warmth, which had been bearable at first, had intensified to a burning, stinging sensation which was, if she remembered correctly, exactly how her injuries had felt.

Lucius began to realise something was wrong when, as the horrific damage that had been done to her back reappeared, she braced herself against the wooden balustrade of the podium. Kathryn felt the bone in her ankle scream in pain, even thought it was not broken. She could hear people in the courtroom gasping in shock as they saw the extent of her injuries. Turning her head to look at Fudge as best she could, people saw the trickle of blood running from her scalp and the bruises forming around her face.

"Are you satisfied?" she managed to gasp out as her legs threatened to buckle beneath her. "Are you quite happy?" she could not speak any more, all that was keeping her from falling were her arms braced on the podium.

"Stop!" she heard Lucius shout. "Can't you see it's hurting her?" Fudge appeared to have gone deaf and did not move even as she cried out in pain for the whole courtroom to hear. Lucius struggled against his bonds as he watched tears spill down her cheeks.

"Stop!" he yelled again, but to no avail. Snape, sitting uncomfortably in his seat, remembered his vow to Lucius and was beginning to feel that this would be considered a point to fulfil it. No sooner had he risen from his seat, there was an anguished cry and he watched as Miss Potter's eyes rolled back into her head and she fell to the ground with a thud; her head making a sickening crack as it hit the wooden floor. Snape continued to gaze, awestruck, as Lucius, roaring in anger, strained against his chains only for them to disappear entirely. Not wasting any time, and with surprising speed for one that had been imprisoned for so long, Lucius dashed up the stairs before any of the Aurors could hold him back.

Skidding to his knees beside her, he gathered her limp form into his arms and cradled her to his chest as if nothing was more precious to him.

"Are you happy?" he yelled at Fudge who was sitting, horror struck, at the bench. "Is all you wish to inflict pain? She has seen enough!" carefully, he gathered her cloak around her slender figure to protect her from curious eyes.

Getting to his feet, he walked calmly down the stairs, down the length of the courtroom and out the doors at the end. Having reached the podium a split second slower than Lucius, Snape picked up her fallen shirt and underwear and followed Lucius from the room. After a few brief words, he re-entered the chamber and closed the doors behind him.

"They're not going anywhere." He said harshly to an Auror who made to follow them out.

Outside, just through the doors, Lucius sank to the floor and sat against the wall, cradling her gently in his arms. He waited, just holding her, as silent tears rolled down her cheeks and cries that she refused to voice wracked her body.

"I have never been so humiliated." She whispered eventually, pulling the cloak tighter about her shoulders.

"The man's a sadist."

Slipping off his knees, she laid herself out on the tiled floor and looked at him with deep, swirling emerald eyes.

"It is worrying that he takes almost as much pleasure in inflicting pain as any standard Death Eater," she mused, "no offence."

"None taken." He lay down next to her and stroked his hand down her exposed side like the way he had done after he'd healed her injuries.

"It seems like an age since that fight," she told him softly, "I had almost begun to forget the pain." She shuddered slightly and he rearranged the cloak to keep her warmer.

"I cannot believe that the Wizengamot approves of the use of such a spell to reveal injuries." He muttered indignantly.

"I think that they will, under the insistence of dear Minister Fudge, accept anything that gets people convicted quickly." She sighed. "Just like old Barty Crouch once did."

"He's not quite there yet." There was silence between them for a few minutes before she spoke again.

"Sometimes I don't know why I am bothering." She sighed. "Everyone knows what the verdict is going to be." Tears were still coursing silently down her cheeks.

"Not for you." He reminded her. "True, the verdict for me is very predictable, although you have a chance to reduce it, but this trial is really to judge you."

"They could've just said that instead of doing it like this." She snapped. "They could've just asked me to stand trial."

"Maybe, but even then they would've been met with stiff opposition. Although people do not have the best opinions of you at the moment, to many, especially in the Order, you are still a hero." He reminded her. "They couldn't have called for you to stand trial, there would've been uproar. I think that most people believe that you have done nothing fundamentally wrong, that you did not betray the order; they just want to see you dragged through the mud for not being morally sound in other areas of your life."

"But in the process everything else that I have done has been forgotten." She said quietly, wishing she could make the tears stop.

"Listen," he replied softly, taking her face in his hands, "no matter what anyone says, you are still a hero to the people that count." Nodding, she wiped her eyes and sat up, still clutching the cloak around her.

"But so are you," she insisted, "without you, Harry and I wouldn't be here."

"I doubt that many will see it that way."

"I just wish it was all over and that I could take you home." She told him, picking up her clothes from where Snape had left them and starting to put them back on. "But I don't dare ask for you to be placed under house arrest lest they accuse me of a plot to get you out the country."

"Indeed." Standing up with her, he pulled her close as she did up the buttons of her shirt.

"Of course," she continued with a wicked smirk, "I could just tell that that I have no intention of helping you escape and that I just want you to warm my bed."

"My bed, you mean." He countered with an equally devilish smirk, ducking his head and capturing her lips.

"Our bed." She finally managed to say once he pulled away. As he kissed her again, all that she could feel burning inside of her was desire and it destroyed her being unable to quench it.

"Ready?" he asked several minutes later as he realised that their absence was growing more suspicious.

"If you mean to remind Cornelius Fudge of who I am, yes." She gave him a wide smile and, with a quick bit of wandless magic opened the doors.

Even those who had seen their entrance the previous day could not failed to be awed at the manner in which she re-entered the courtroom. Despite having left almost twenty minutes before bundled in his arms, her strides were swift and powerful and all those who were watching wouldn't have liked to get in her way. It was not, however, the thing that alarmed observers the most. No, that accolade was taken by the look that burned in her eyes. It blatantly dared Fudge to even say anything as she approached. To her delight, Fudge shifted anxiously in his seat and did not dare venture comment.

"I assume now, Fudge," she did not address him as Minister this time, "that you are satisfied that I indeed told you the truth about my injuries."

"Quite." Fudge stammered, a sheen of sweat glistening on her forehead.

"Good." She replied shortly. Another bit of wandless magic had her, bag and his cane in her hands. As he laid her cloak around her shoulders, she spoke again. "Then I shall see you tomorrow as I am quite finished with being humiliated for one day." Kissing Lucius without caring that they were watching, she strode out of the room without a backward glance.

There was a positive side to leaving so abruptly; the atrium was devoid of photographers and she could make it to the elevator out in record time. As she sat in the car, all she could feel was sheer anger. Instead of sitting properly, she sprawled herself out in the larger than normal seats and, for the first time in a while, stuck her headphones in her ears and shut off from everything that was going on. As well as giving her the opportunity to think, it also made the journey pass quickly and, before she knew it, she was climbing up the steps to her bedroom.

As she hung up her cloak, she caught sight of herself in the mirror. Instead of being in its usual long waves, her hair was messy and caught up in the beading of her necklace. Her shirt was a crinkled mess; un-tucked and buttoned up wrong. She had been in such a hurry to do it up she had completely missed half of the buttons and, consequently, the shirt hung off her bare shoulder exposing the grey bra strap beneath. Her eyes were suddenly ringed by large dark circles and her skin was unusually pale. She could still feel a lingering tingling sensation thanks to that ridiculous spell Fudge had used.

The feeling of humiliation that had gripped her in the Ministry took hold again as she stared at her reflection. She looked broken and defeated; far from the person she had been that morning. Unbidden, tears began to once more streak down her cheeks before escalating into choking sobs. She lay on her bed for hours, long after the tears had stopped. She was still desperately unhappy but she couldn't physically cry anymore. Picking up her wand, she lazily summoned a few bits and bobs and, moments later, her hand curled around the cool stem of a glass.


	69. Chapter 69

A/N - Harry and the others discuss what they have seen and heard and Hermione shows them something she found. In the meantime, our heroine gives a dazzling display of self-destructive behaviour and an unlikely figure is there to help. Read, enjoy and please review, it makes me simle!

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Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny had sat in Harry's room for hours, unable to digest what had happened. All Harry could see in his minds eye was his sister's back erupting a vicious, bloody red as wounds that seemed to encompass her were revealed. He remembered how her face had paled as she tried to remain standing and the tears that slid down her cheek as she finally fell. Her screams were still ringing in his ears. He, along with many of the Order members had thought her injuries to be less severe. True, they had seen them in her memories but that was just a picture. To see them in 'real' life was horrifying. He had sometimes doubted her when she had said that she could've easily died from her injuries and he now regretted even allowing such thoughts to enter his head.

He could barely imagine what she must have felt that night. He couldn't comprehend how much pain she must have been in before she had even finished fighting Voldemort. The thought of her being in such pain and just lying unconscious and forgotten in the grounds was more than he could stand. There was another dimension to his feelings, however. He was thankful that Lucius Malfoy had gone after her; that he had been able to save his sister from what would have certainly ended in death. Harry could also well imagine how elated she must have felt to wake up with him by her side; he had experienced the same feeling when he had woken up still alive.

She had barely been in Grimmauld place since that day. It was now the last week of August and, since the end of June she had spent three weeks at home. The rest had been spent living in Malfoy Manor. Harry was beginning to get the feeling that she would never come back. Her room was lying unused and they didn't like to sit up there without her. Nothing had been moved, not even the birthday cards that were still stood on the windowsill.

None of them had spoken much since they had got back home; none of them knowing what to say. It wasn't just them either; even Sirius, Lupin and the others were stunned. And they weren't stunned at what Fudge had done, but more at the way Lucius had reacted. Most of them had never believe that he cared that much. In their circles he had a reputation for caring about no one other than himself.

"What do you think about it all?" Ron eventually asked, breaking the silence.

"I don't know Ron; 'all' is a bit of a large concept to cover." Hermione sighed.

"Well, you know, what happened today."

"I don't know what to think about it, to be honest." Harry told them. "I mean, everything we saw today was so far from how he has acted in the past. I think I might just have to get used to the fact that he cares for her."

"If seeing that happen to her could provoke enough magical strength to break those chains, I'd say you're probably right." Hermione added. "But what about her, I mean; she hasn't said a word about her feelings?"

"No, she hasn't." Harry nodded. "But I think we can go so far as guessing. Although, she did tell me that she wasn't sure what she felt."

"Things can change." Ginny suggested. "Or maybe she has known all along and just doesn't want to say it."

"Well," Hermione said nervously, "I think she knows how he feels and is just hiding it from us all."

"How do you know?" Ron asked sceptically.

"I'll show you." Standing up, Hermione led them out of the door and upstairs to her room. The room was eerily quiet and still, everything as it ever was, as if time had not passed since her birthday. Night had fallen and Hermione waved her wand to light the lamps.

"I found it that day when we sent her clothes to Malfoy Manor." Hermione explained as they walked into her bedroom. "It was, well, it was with a bundle of notes and cards in her jewellery drawer and she had asked me to pack those too." She pulled the top drawer of Kathryn's dresser open and lifted out a folded piece of parchment.

"Why didn't you send it with the rest?" Harry asked curiously.

"I think it just got left behind," Hermione shrugged, "I don't think it was attached to the main bundle, as if she had only got it recently."

"Do I want to know what it says?" Harry asked tentatively, not wanting to find out something that he wasn't ready to know.

"Well, that all depends on what you want to know."

"Thanks for being clear." Harry replied with a small laugh.

"From the wording, I think I can safely say that this is the note that came with the necklace he sent her for her twentieth birthday." She handed the parchment to Harry. It was thick and heavy with a crest embossed into the corner and spoke volumes about the person that had sent it. Taking a deep breath, he opened the note and read.

_Happy Birthday. _

_If this has been delivered by owl then I am, for whatever reason, unable to give it to you in person. It is a family heirloom, passed on from mother to daughter on her twentieth birthday. However, as I have no daughter, it seems fitting that it should pass to you. With love._

"With love." To Harry those last two words stood out a mile. "He actually put it in writing."

"I think the bundle was every note or letter he has ever sent her." Hermione explained. "All the cards that were in the gifts he sent her, all the ones she hid from us."

"I have a feeling that you have a theory about all of this." Ron commented with a raised brow.

"Well," Hermione shrugged, "I have given it some thought."

"We'd be worried if you hadn't." Ron told her affectionately.

"Oh Ron," she chided him, "even you two could've figured this out if you gave it thought."

"What do you think it means?" Harry asked, not wanting them to start bickering.

"Oh, sorry Harry, well," she set the note down and sat perched on the end of the bed, "it's quite a simple concept really. We know that they are both very guarded people when it comes to their emotions, I mean, when has Kathryn ever told us anything in depth about how she feels?"

"Never." Harry replied glumly, beginning to wish he had made her open up more.

"And when have you ever heard Lucius Malfoy speak about his private life and feelings in public?"

"Never." Ginny answered.

"Exactly, now, this got me to thinking about why they hide their feelings." Hermione sounded very excited at what she had surmised from the entire situation. "I think that he has never told her how he feels, although he has shown it through gifts and this one note, because he is afraid someone will use it against him."

"But he was married before and no one used it against him." Ron pointed out.

"I know, but Narcissa Malfoy was a Pureblood and therefore not someone his fellow Death Eaters would use against him because she was related to most of them. Beyond that, the only person that anyone could've used against him was his son but we saw how coldly he treated him in front of anyone." They all realised that what Hermione was saying was making a lot of sense. "If people know how he feels about your sister, especially members of the press or the Ministry, they will use it to gain an advantage. Think of what he could agree to with the threat of what they could do to her hanging over his head."

"Fudge wouldn't dare do that." Harry said icily, fully prepared to severely hurt anyone who tried to harm his sister after everything she had been through.

"I'm sure Fudge has his fair share of unsavoury contacts that would do anything for the right sum." Hermione replied grimly. "But, if anything, I think the most it would take to break him would be threatening to thrown her in Azkaban with him. Of course, it would take an army to take her out." Hermione finished with a smile. "Because she would definitely not go willingly."

"And what about Kathryn?" Harry asked. "Why do you think she hides it?"

"I think she hides it for probably the same reasons." Hermione sighed. "And I also think she wants to avoid the scorn of the public for declaring herself to be in love with Lucius Malfoy."

"She has had to endure that already without saying anything about loving him." Harry snorted.

"She might have had to put up with some less than friendly attitudes but that is nothing to what she will receive if she says that she loves him. At the moment, I think that people see them as lovers but nothing much beyond that. I mean, like she's said before, people are caught up in the scandal but, at heart, she is still one of the children that vanquished Voldemort. She is still the girl that lived, a hero who has gone on to best Voldemort a second time. If she, someone they revere as a symbol of all that is good, declares her love for someone that she has stood against ever since she was born; how do you think people will react?"

"I couldn't tell you exactly how but I can see angry mobs, all torches and pitchforks, at the gates to Malfoy Manor."

"That's probably about right." Hermione sighed. "Although, thankfully, all and sundry do not know how much she really cares for him."

Their discussion was interrupted by Mrs Weasley calling them all down for dinner.

"We'll go and see her later." Harry decided as they walked down the stairs. "Just to see if she's alright."

As they sat down to their dinner, a couple of hundred miles away in a Wiltshire Manor, a foot was slipped into a dangerously high shoe and the owner of the feet walked out of the door and into the night.

After dinner, Harry flooed Malfoy Manor to check if Kathryn was ok with them coming over. He pulled his head out of the fire fast, making his head spin, as one of the House Elves told him that she wasn't in.

"She's not there." He announced to the kitchen. "The House Elves said that she went out a couple of hours ago and didn't say where she was going." Snape, who had surprisingly joined them for dinner, sat in silence as everyone broke out in worried conversation.

"We're going to have to look for her." Sirius decided.

"Where do you start?" Harry asked sceptically.

"You don't." Snape answered shortly. "You trust her to be able to look after herself. I would've thought that after everything you've heard you'd know that she can do just that."

"I just want to make sure she is alright, Professor." Harry shot back scathingly. "Today wasn't exactly easy for her."

"That's as maybe, but I do not think it wise for you to go looking for her."

"Why not?" Harry challenged him.

"Because you seem to have a tendency to clash with her quite openly over things she does." Snape replied coolly.

"How do you know?"

"Because, Mr Potter, you were never that good at Occlumency." Snape smirked as Harry balked.

"But what's to stop me looking for her?" Harry asked defensively.

"Well, unless you hadn't noticed, you cause quite a media sensation as soon as you walk out the door." Snape explained in such a familiar tone. "You making a scene with your sister, wherever she may be, and creating rumours of a rift between the two of you would not do her any favours."

"But there isn't a rift." Harry protested.

"Did you miss the point?" Snape asked, dumbstruck. "The rumours will do her more harm that the truth."

"Why do you care all of a sudden?" Harry asked in a raised tone, trying his best not to shout. "Why the sudden interest?"

"Because," Snape took a deep breath, "because I made a vow to myself that I would."

"You what?"

"My shard of information cost your mother her life, Potter, I signed her death sentence and I have spent my life trying to atone for that." Snape was showing more emotion than Harry had ever seen before. "I have watched over you, very discretely, since you arrived at Hogwarts. I hope that, in lieu of protecting your mother like I should've done, I can find some solace in protecting her children."

"Oh."

"And I promised Lucius that I would watch over her, like I watched over Draco." Snape explained. "He is one of my oldest friends, I could not refuse."

"And you weren't going to tell us this?" Sirius asked calmly.

"I saw no reason to." Snape shrugged. "It was a private matter between Lucius and I."

"Why did you even agree?" Harry asked in disbelief. "You don't even like us."

"I never said that I didn't like you, Potter." Snape snapped back. "I simply did not wish to coddle you like others did."

"Oh, right." Harry felt slightly ashamed of himself. "Sorry."

"As to your other question," Snape resumed where he had left off, "I agreed because he had that look in his eyes."

"What look?" Hermione chipped in curiously.

"He cares for her." Snape replied simply, not admonishing her for interrupting like he usually did. "And it isn't caring like he cares about his fortune," he continued to explain, "but it is in his heart that he cares for her."

"Oh." That was the only thing Hermione could say.

"I have never seen him show that kind of emotion about anyone, not even Narcissa. Or his son for that matter." There was silence in the kitchen. "Besides, I owe your sister a life debt. She saved my life despite all I have done to appear unconcerned, and with full knowledge that I was the one that brought death to her mother's door. I intend to honour that debt."

"Ok then." Harry finally said.

"Well, with that over and done with," Snape flung his cloak about his shoulders, "I will fulfil my obligation and find her."

His first stop was Malfoy Manor. The House Elves showed him in despite their insistence that their mistress was not in. Ignoring what they said, he ventured into the master bedroom where he found a half empty bottle of Vodka, some Cointreau, cranberry juice and a cocktail shaker next to a Martini glass.

"Oh dear." He murmured to himself as he surveyed the clothes and shoes scattered over the floor in what must have been an indecisive wardrobe moment.

"Where did she go?" he snapped as one of the House Elves came in to start tidying up.

"Mistress is not telling us where she is going." It said in a high pitched squeak, obviously scared out of its skin.

"Very well." Sighing, he swept out of the room and through the halls trying to decide what to do. Quite suddenly, the idea dawned upon him. Walking back to her room, his eyes landed on the necklace she had been wearing that day in court. Holding the elegant set of pearls carefully in his hand, he took the stairs up to the library two at a time.

Finding an atlas amongst the stacks of books, he opened it up to a map of the United Kingdom and set the necklace down on the page. After a few complex wand movements, he spoke the incantation.

"Mostra il modo." The necklace glowed blue for a moment and then returned to normal. Moving the necklace onto the desk, Snape picked up the atlas and watched as a small blue dot appeared on the map where he was at the moment. Then, slowly, the shining blue speck began to move about the map. It jumped several times and Snape began to sense that Miss Potter had left with the intention of not being found. She had sat in innumerable Order meetings and was well aware that it was near impossible to track someone who had apparated.

She did not know, however, of this little used means of tracing someone's movements and Snape gave a small smile as the blue dot finally came to a stop. Looking at the map, the shining particle was hovering directly over Newcastle.

As he walked back out to the gates of the Manor to apparate, Snape knew exactly why she had gone so far north. He knew that she had chosen the city because it was so far away from where they would think to look for her. Snape also know that she had chosen Newcastle because of its reputation for the plethora of bars and clubs that populated the city centre. From what he had heard, although they were few and far between, when she went for a night out with her friends she liked to go to Muggle bars and clubs where they wouldn't be recognised. And, whilst Newcastle boasted a vibrant wizarding community, it also gave her plenty of places to hide. Fulfilling his promise to Lucius was not going to be an easy task.

Kathryn's head buzzed as she walked down a street lined with bars. She was surrounded by people and, for the first time in a while, felt free. Nobody knew who she was or cared about what she was doing as she looked for her next port of call. Of course, she did not fail to catch people's attention as she walked down the street in her dress. It was made of purple velvet, strapless and rather short. It was basically a sheath of fabric that clung to her perfectly with a voluminous layer of dark green silk chiffon stitched underneath the bust. This fell down elegantly in translucent waves and was then tucked under and stitched to the hem of the dress, creating a puffball effect that few could pull off. Adding this to her long hair, sparkling jewellery and long legs in stupidly high shoes, people could not fail to stare.

This look also gave her the advantage of, after a well aimed smile, being allowed to jump the queue by bouncers outside the doors. She supposed it was also due to the way people seemed to point at what she was wearing, making them think she was someone important. Snape, however, was getting into bars in a very different way. If he was stopped as he walked through the door, whoever it was found themselves rushing off to do something else instead. Whilst some of the bars he stepped into were well appointed and elegant, it was the Muggles that were drinking that brought the place down. Muggle women were dressed in disturbingly low cut tops or shorter than acceptably short shorts. Sometimes it was a mixture of both. And then there were the men; all dressed in the same, badly cut shirts and all leering at every woman that walked by.

After a brief search in several establishments, Snape decided that his best bet would be to try the ones that seemed expensive and exclusive. Therefore, the next bar he stepped into had an altogether different ambience than the last few. It was dark and brooding, seductive even. The walls were a mixture of black and red textured wallpaper in decadent patterns and a large crystal chandelier dominated the ceiling. The floor was made of dark, polished wood and his steps echoed as he walked. The bar was a gleaming work of polished black stone and bartenders carried drinks out on trays to patrons sitting in intimate booths or on comfortable, lushly appointed sofas.

He spotted her almost instantly; sat languidly on one of the sofas in the back corner of the bar.

"Can I get you anything sir?" one of the bartenders asked politely as Snape walked past the bar.

"A Dry Martini." Snape replied, continuing his walk over to the back corner. She was sat in the corner of the sofa, her long legs crossed, with one arm resting on the arm of the sofa and the other holding her half finished cocktail. A second sat waiting on the table. It was past midnight and he wondered how many she'd already had.

"What an excellent display of a coping strategy, Miss Potter," he said bluntly as he took the seat opposite her, "I congratulate you." She did not reply, instead finishing her cocktail and picking up the next.

"Although I would discourage you from such behaviour as it does tend to send your brother and friends into a panic as to your whereabouts." The bartender appeared and set down his drink.

"Well wasn't it nice of you to come and find me." She replied once the bartender had disappeared again. "I know coming out into public is a big step for you." Although her comments were cutting, her words were slightly slurred and muddled together. She was very drunk.

"I would also think that you knew better considering the ramifications of being caught in this state by the Prophet's photographers." He shot back.

"Oh," she slurred, taking another drink, "I'd forgotten about that."

"Well it's lucky someone remembered." He replied dryly. "Now I'm taking you home whether you come willingly or by force."

"I have to pay first." She signalled the handsome barman over and handed him a couple of crisp Muggle twenty pound notes. "I'll pay for his too." She nodded at Snape, batting her eyelashes flirtatiously and giving him a coy smile as he walked off.

"I would also suggest that you remember who you are loyal to." He snapped, noticing her gestures.

"Fine." She slurred, standing up and walking in a slightly wobbly fashion towards the door. Snape, draining the last of what had been a very good martini, followed her; slightly amazed that she could still walk in such high shoes.

Her first stumble came at the stairs leading back down to the street and he found her clinging onto his cloak as they walked down. She did not let go as they continued to walk down the street.

"Good Merlin, you are stupid." He muttered as she staggered in her shoes.

"No," she corrected in a slurring voice, "I am drunk."

"How did you think you were going to get home in this state?" he asked. "I'm amazed that you even managed to Apparate here from the Manor." He was amazed, after seeing how much she had already imbibed before leaving the house. All he got in reply was incessant giggling.

"You've never seen me this drunk, have you?" she asked stupidly.

"Thankfully not." Snape shot back acerbically, although he was sure she didn't pick up on his tone at all.

"Actually," she slurred, stumbling again, "I don't think I've ever been this drunk before."

"How privileged I am to witness it." Snape replied, concentrating on trying to find a quite spot from which to Apparate. He finally found somewhere after another couple of minutes of drunken stumbling with her hanging around his neck for support. A deserted alleyway near the train station would serve his purpose perfectly. Not listening to her inebriated mumblings, he wrapped one arm around her waist and made sure the other was firmly around his neck as he made ready to apparate.

"Oh no." She slurred as her alcohol fogged mind realised what he was about to do. In a practiced manoeuvre, they disappeared in the blink of an eye and reappeared moments later just outside the Manor's gates. Disentangling herself from his arms, she promptly vomited in the hedgerow. Snape smirked as she coughed; he had known it was not advisable to apparate or side-along apparate whilst drunk, but it had been the only way to get her home. Leaning against him again, her knees buckled and Snape found himself carrying her semi-conscious form down the long drive.

Once through the doors and into familiar territory, she seemed to revive slightly and demanded that he set her down. He did as she asked and watched in mild amusement as she stumbled up the stairs, clinging onto the banister as she went. He eventually followed, finding her shoes and dress discarded just through the doors to the master suite. She was nowhere in the bedroom but there was an unpleasant noise coming from the bathroom. Walking over to the doorway he came upon something that he would have rather not seen. Hunched over the toilet bowl wearing naught but her knickers, she was emptying her stomach contents at a shocking speed.

"Stupid girl." He muttered, pouring a large glass of water from the pitcher he had told the House Elves to have ready. "Drink this." He ordered, thrusting the glass and a towel into her hands once she had finished. She had just managed to pull her hair back into a rough ponytail but strands still hung around her pale face.

"Thanks." She croaked groggily, drinking it slowly. Snape did not reply. He was rather uncomfortable with the situation as he was well aware that he was seeing her in a way that only Lucius was meant to. This did not seem to faze her, however, and after finishing her drink stood up, splashed her face with cold water and walked back into the bedroom.

Following after a few moments, Snape found her lying on the mattress completely passed out without even having pulled the covers over her. Her head had missed the pillows completely and she was just awkwardly sprawled out. Sighing, he carefully readjusted her position; trying not to see too much, and pulled the covers over her.

Quite by accident, although he had promised himself that he was only going to stay for a little while to make sure that she wasn't ill again, Snape fell asleep in one of the comfortable chains by the glowing remnants of the fire.

Jolting awake just before dawn, he found himself watching her sleep for just a little while. She was slumbering deeply now, only on a completely different side of the bed to the one she had lain down on. Snape assumed that it must be 'her' side of the bed. He was quite astonished when, as she moved the next time, he actually felt a pang of compassion for her. Rolling over to face away from the windows, her arm reached across the bed as if in search of something, only to find it empty. Shuddering, she drew her arm back and burrowed further into the covers. Sighing, Snape turned and walked out of the room, pondering what he now knew to have blossomed between the most unlikely pair.


	70. Chapter 70

A/N - Woot, another chapter for you all. THere are still 4 exams to go though so it will be another week or two before the next update I'm afraid!

As you would expect, such nights of hedonism and self destructive behaviour have consequences...one of which is not being at your best in the morning....

As always, please read, enjoy and leave me a review!!

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"She's safe." That was how Snape greeted them all when he swooped in on them having breakfast the next morning.

"Where was she?" Harry asked between mouthfuls of cereal.

"Newcastle."

"Thank you, Professor."

"She might be a little worse for wear though." Snape added in a hesitant tone, taking the cup of coffee that was offered to him by Mrs Weasley.

"Why?" Sirius snapped; the concern for his God-daughter apparent. "What did you do to her?"

"I did nothing, Black." He snapped. "Instead of having one to many I think she had about eight too many." Snape went on to explain.

"Oh."

"Well, if you'll excuse me," he pulled his cloak about his shoulders, "I need to change before going to the Ministry." With no more words of farewell, he swept out of the kitchen.

"Have you ever seen her drunk?" Hermione immediately asked.

"No." Harry shook his head. "I mean, I've seen her drink and she can generally hold it quite well, but if Snape's just got back then she must've been bad."

"She's not going to be in a good mood." Hermione said sombrely. "At all."

Somewhere in the room an alarm rang in a vain effort to wake her up. Opening one bleary eye, she saw the small silver clock that had been added to her bedside table. Groaning and burying herself further beneath the covers, she reached for her wand. Her fingers curling around the thin wooden instrument, all it took was a lazy wave to stop the noise. Ten seconds later she was asleep.

The next time she woke the alarm was not one that you could switch off.

"Miss!" came the high pitched squeak right next to her ear. "Miss! You is going to be late!"

"What?" she managed to murmur, her throat painfully dry and tasting of stale alcohol.

"It is ten thirty Miss!" the House Elf squeaked. "You has to be at the Ministry at eleven." This reminder sent her shooting bolt upright in bed.

"Thank you." She croaked. "Bring up a cup of coffee and have a bottle of water ready for me to take away." She ordered hurriedly as she scrambled out of the twisted bedcovers.

"At once Miss!" the House Elf disappeared with a 'crack'. Staggering across the bedroom, she pulled off her knickers, having worn nothing else to bed, and practically fell into the shower. Realising that the hot jets of water were lulling her back to sleep, she turned them as cold as they would go and forced herself to stand beneath them for a good few minutes.

Not stopping to breathe, she dashed through to the wardrobe where she quickly dried herself off and pulled out a random selection of clothes without really looking at them. Scraping her hair back into a loose ponytail, she pulled on her jeans followed by a black camisole and a long grey jumper which was loosely knitted with a wide scooped neckline. She barely looked at herself in the mirror, only glancing at her reflection long enough to see that her eyes were dark, puffy and bloodshot.

Hurrying back through into the bedroom she gulped down as much of the hot coffee as she could before brushing her teeth furiously to get rid of the rancid taste that still lingered. Grabbing the necklace he had given her for her birthday, she fastened it around her neck before grabbing her favourite chocolate brown tote bag and flinging anything she thought she might need. She put her glasses in their seldom used case and instead placed a pair of large sunglasses over her eyes to hide the telltale sign of a heavy night.

A clock somewhere chimed eleven. Swearing loudly, she grabbed his cane and walked over to the fireplace. Throwing in a pinch of Floo powder, she stepped into the emerald green flames and cried out her destination.

"Number twelve Grimmauld Place." The swirling was sickening and she prayed that it didn't make her ill again. Tumbling out into the kitchen, she immediately grabbed more of the green powder of the mantel and threw it into the fire again.

"Ministry of Magic." She shouted this time, bracing herself for the sickening journey.

Her arrival in the Atrium was even less dignified than that of her arrival at Grimmauld Place. This time she did actually fall, banging her knees on the well polished floors and sending a small cloud of soot into the air. People stared as she stood and brushed herself down and set off for the courtroom as fast as she could manage.

Downstairs, people were uncomfortably shifting in their seats as they waited in silence. Dumbledore was in deep, hushed conversation with Snape whilst Fudge appeared to get angrier by the second. Lucius, on the other hand, whilst looking completely stoical had a distinct look of worry in his eyes. Everyone looked up as the door slowly creaked open. People craned their necks to see who slipped through the doors. It was Kathryn.

She walked slowly down the courtroom and Harry could not help but be amazed at how different she looked. Compared to the previous days, she looked a mess. She had on her favourite pair of boy-cut jeans on that were well frayed around the hems and hung very loose off her hips, a pair of battered Converse trainers poking out from beneath them. The grey jumper she was wearing was hanging off one shoulder and had a conspicuous soot mark on the side. Her hair was a mass of waves, roughly corralled into a ponytail that hung over her shoulder, whilst her eyes were hidden by large dark sunglasses.

"Miss Potter," Fudge said dryly as she approached the Wizengamot bench, "how nice of you to join us." She did not reply. "You may consider yourself to be above authority but, I assure you that you are not, and I would be grateful if you would take care to arrive on time like everyone else." She still didn't reply, not appearing to be even paying him any attention. "And it would be very nice, Miss Potter, if you acknowledged me when I speak to you." She finally stopped when she was next to where Lucius sat, laying one of her hands on his.

"Good morning to you too Fudge." She finally said quietly, her voice still rather hoarse. "My apologies for being late but I did just wake up three quarters of an hour ago."

"Really? Well you should get up earlier. Personally, considering what we have seen over the past few days, I would've assumed that you are late because you were getting dressed." Harry couldn't believe what he was saying. "Obviously not." There was a small ripple of laughter through the benches.

"I'm so sorry to disappoint." She replied dryly. "I do know that it was some time since your youth, Fudge, but I do assume that you are familiar with the effects of too much alcohol." Her head pounded with every single sound and she tried to disguise that she was using the chair to which Lucius was chained to hold herself up. Harry thought that although obviously hung over, she had done well with her clothes as, if anything, they would remind people that she was still only a girl.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I was drunk last night Fudge." Despite being hung over she could still sound like Snape at his most acerbic. "You know, hammered, smashed, trolleyed, bladdered, wasted; whatever you want to call it." There were a few titters of laughter from amongst the benches of observers.

"I am not responsible for your actions, Miss Potter," Fudge replied tersely, "and I suggest that you do not practice such self-destructive behaviour when you have important things to attend to."

"And I suggest that you do not use such barbaric methods of discovering the truth, thus provoking such self destructive behaviour." She shot back, her expression unreadable thanks to her large sunglasses. Had he been able to see her eyes, Harry was sure that she would be giving him a look that could've silenced a Death Eater at twenty paces. "Something for you to consider."

"Well, if you would be so kind as to assume your normal place, we shall continue."

"As you wish." Her voice was cold as she walked up to the podium where she had stood for the past three days. It was only up there that she removed her sunglasses for her ordinary ones. Harry understood, upon seeing the dark circles and bloodshot veins, why she had chosen to shield her eyes.

"You will be grateful, Miss Potter, that today is going to be a short day." Fudge began, sounding decidedly pompous. Kathryn supposed that he was happy that she wasn't on her usual form. "Seeing as you were un-contactable last night, we were unable to inform you of our intentions for today."

"And they are?" she asked tersely, wishing greatly to throttle Fudge.

"The Wizengamot, on reflection, would like to see proof of all the gifts that Mr Malfoy gave to you as well as being shown the areas of his manor where the, erm, aforementioned events took place."

"So you mean you wish to invade my privacy even further," she summarised, "correct?"

"If that is how you wish to put it." Fudge shifted nervously. "But we merely wish to add to our understanding of events. We will then adjourn until Monday when we will hear Mr Malfoy's account of events."

"Very well." She sighed. "When can I expect you?"

"We will discuss this momentarily." Fudge told her before addressing the rest of the court. "Court adjourned until Monday morning at ten o'clock." There was a great rumbling as people rose and made their way out once more, probably annoyed that they weren't going to see or hear anything interesting today.

"Miss Potter, would you please join us in chambers for a moment." Fudge instructed her as the Wizengamot left. Without speaking, she walked down from her stand and slipped through the hidden door that led up to the Wizengamot's bench. As she walked through into the Wizengamot chambers, she noticed that Harry, Ron, Hermione, Sirius, Snape and Dumbledore were waiting. Closing the door behind her, she found herself facing the twelve, purple robed witches and wizards as well as Percy Weasley and Umbridge.

"Well, ladies and gentleman, when do wish to visit?"

"As soon as possible." Fudge stated plainly.

"Well, I need to have at least an hour or so before I can even dream of entertaining." She remarked wryly. "And it's going to take me a while to find everything he gave me."

"One o'clock?" Fudge suggested.

"Please, that's just over an hour away, I need a nap too."

"Two o'clock?"

"That should be alright."

"Very well, we'll see you at two." Fudge seemed satisfied, assuming that the conversation was over.

"Wait a moment, Fudge," the tone of her voice stopped him in his tracks, "we haven't discussed what I get in return."

"The fair and proper execution of justice." Fudge offered.

"Somehow I'm not tempted." She shrugged in a blasé fashion. "I need something more real, something I can count on."

"How dare you have the nerve?" Fudge exclaimed; shocked at how like Lucius Malfoy she could actually be. "I'm not going to offer because I think you know what you want."

"I want the weekend."

"You have the weekend," the witch with the long white hair and pince-nez pointed out, "you are not due back here until Monday."

"I think," Fudge commented pensively, "that she wants more than just a weekend." Kathryn merely smiled. "And I have to say that you are pushing your luck, if what I assume you are suggesting is correct."

"I think you pushed it yesterday, I am merely pushing back." She explained.

"And how do you suppose the public will react to such a thing?" Fudge asked. "How do you think I will look if I allow such a thing?"

"It's not like people have to know, Fudge. Unless, of course, you give me reason to tell them."

"Miss Potter, are you suggesting that you should be allowed Mr Malfoy to return to his home for the weekend in exchange for allowing us to see the Manor?" the wizard with the shock of white hair asked.

"Well," she paused dramatically, "yes, actually, I do."

"I don't know how you have the nerve." The elegant woman with fading blonde hair asked.

"I don't know." She shrugged. "I guess I just think that I have enough leverage to convince you."

"And what might that be?"

"Oh, that would spoil the surprise." She teased, hoping that her plan would work. More than a few of them looked nervous, making her wonder what they had to hide.

"Very well." Fudge spilled out.

"I knew you'd be receptive to the idea." She smiled. "When might I extract him from the building?"

"This afternoon, once our visit to Malfoy Manor is complete." Fudge said firmly, Kathryn understanding that he wanted to end this conversation by asserting some control.

"Until two then." She nodded, sweeping out the door.

Walking straight over to Lucius, still chained down to the chair, she took as much of him in her arms as she could and just held him for a moment.

"I'm sorry if I still smell like booze." She whispered in his ear, kissing him lightly on the cheek.

"God you look awful." He remarked dryly, smirking a little. "Although you do look oddly happy."

"Let's just say that I'm spending the weekend with a wonderful gentleman." She murmured in his ear.

"Oh really," he said, feigning interest and completely understanding what she meant, "enjoy yourself."

"Oh I will." Giving him one final kiss, she walked off with Harry Ron, Ginny and Hermione following behind.

"You look knackered." Harry commented once they were in the lift.

"I am." She sighed, putting her sunglasses back on. "My head feels like the Hogwarts Express has gone through it at full speed."

"How much did you drink?" Hermione hissed under her breath.

"I don't honestly know." She shrugged as they arrived in the Atrium. "I mean, I got through half a bottle of vodka before I left the house and then I had about six or seven cocktails when I was out."

"It's a wonder you managed to walk." Harry commented as she swept, surprisingly easily, through the crowds of people.

"I do remember Snape holding me up at one point." She rubbed her forehead, trying to remember. "And possibly some carrying although I can't really recall that much." They were opposite the green fires that transported people to and from the Ministry.

"Are you going to be wanting us around this afternoon?" she stepped into the roaring green flames.

"No." she shrugged as they all re-emerged in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. "I'll have them on my turf so they will play by my rules."

"What about afterwards?"

"All I am going to do tonight is go to bed." She said with a small laugh. "And I persuaded them to give me Lucius for the weekend so all I assume that he will want to do is sleep too."

"How about tomorrow?" Hermione asked.

"Come over for lunch, at about one." She suggested. "I've got to go." Throwing some more Floo powder into the fireplace, she returned to Malfoy manor before they could even vent their surprise at his 'release' for the weekend.

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A/N - Hung over but still on form....if anything on better form because she is in even less of a mood to take any of Fudge's nonsense!


	71. Chapter 71

A/N - And the Wizengamot pay a visit to the Manor and cast an eye over things that she would rather remain private. Please read, enjoy and leave me a review!

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Just under two hours later, there was a sharp knock on the door of Malfoy Manor, swiftly answered by a house elf. Despite the fact that she had seen Lucius with them from the bedroom window, she left them stewing downstairs for a while. She had actually managed to change out of her scruffy clothes and into something a bit more suitable for such illustrious company. Her jeans this time stayed on instead of constantly trying to make their way to her ankles. Slipping her feet into a pair of black flats and pulling on one of his black shirts that she had re-sized to fit, she went to meet them, hoping that she looked decidedly better than she had that morning.

Walking down the grand staircase, she kept her eyes fixed on Lucius who was being guarded by a pair of Aurors. She noted that Umbridge and Percy Weasley were also part of the party.

"Are the Aurors really necessary Fudge?" she asked, skipping the pleasantries. "What do you think he's going to do?"

"The Aurors are for our security, Miss Potter, surely you realise that?" Fudge replied stiffly.

"And you'd better not be considering leaving a couple here over the weekend as I refuse to have my every step scrutinised by your lapdogs."

"Very well." Fudge agreed, probably afraid of what she would do if he refused. He dismissed the Aurors with a wave of his hand before speaking again. "Now might we commence our business here?"

"As you wish." She nodded, hoping that this would be dealt with expediently. "I would suggest that we start in the cellars."

"Very well, lead the way." Obediently, she led them down the concealed set of steps and into the cavernous cellars beneath the house. Lucius followed patiently, not saying a word as they approached the door where everything all began. Opening the door, she showed them all in without a word.

"So this is the room where he raped you, yes?" one of the women asked, trying and failing to conceal the disgust in her voice.

"Yes." She replied simply. She didn't want to be in this room. With so many people in it she felt trapped, a feeling she did not want to experience in this room ever again. She leaned against the fireplace as one of the members of the Wizengamot pulled back the bedspread.

"I see that Mr Malfoy does not care to change his sheets." Kathryn balked as her eyes settled upon blackened patches of what had been her blood that were spattered all over the white cotton. Her stomach lurched and she tried to look away, only to find herself drawn to the remnants of what had happened.

"You seem, uncomfortable, Miss Potter." One of the wizards commented. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she replied quickly, hiding the shaky tone in her voice, "I just haven't been in here for more than a minute since I left this room." She explained. "Two years ago to the day actually."

"Well, I believe we've seen all that we need to here." She was thankful for that decision and locked the door firmly behind her.

"You mentioned that you were grateful that you were 'kept' there and not next door." The witch with the bobbed ginger hair asked. "I was just curious as there does not appear to be a next door."

"Not one that you can see." Stepping forwards, the inserted the ring he had given her into the appropriate groove, gave the password, and waited until it released the ring. She saw several eyes widen as the portion of wall slid away, followed by several gasps as they saw the room's contents. She mouthed 'sorry' to Lucius, knowing that this was doing him more harm than good.

"I assume you now understand why I feel lucky to be alive." She said after no one had spoken for a while.

"Quite." That was all Fudge managed to say.

Kathryn was sure that she heard a small gasp as she walked in.

"And I'm sure that you'll all recognise this." She held up the dagger that they had seen him taunting her with at the start of the week. "After all, you did want proof."

"Yes, thank you." The brunette witch with the kindly face looked as if she was about to faint. Stepping out and closing the door behind her, Kathryn sealed off the room that was causing them such offence.

"What would you like to see now?" she asked with a sigh, her headache returning with a vengeance.

"You showed yourself being hidden in a room in the library." Fudge informed her. "We would like to see this room."

"As you wish." She nodded. "Not that there is much to see." They followed her in silence, apparently unwilling to make any form of conversation. As she showed them out of the door, she noticed that Lucius' hands were securely manacled together.

"Oh how ridiculous." She remarked sharply, pulling out his wand and releasing him from his bonds. "In your own home." Smiling gratefully at her, he rubbed his wrists where they had chafed against the rough metal.

"What exactly did they think I was going to do?" he murmured to her as she led them up to the library.

"I don't know." She shrugged. "Kill them all maybe?" she suggested with a laugh. If any of them had any complaints about releasing him from his bonds, they did not voice it as they stepped into the huge library.

"Just through here." She led them into the reading room and, with a movement so quick that they didn't see what she did, the hidden panel slid away.

"Thank you, Miss Potter." Kathryn was surprised that Fudge was being passably gracious.

"It's not all that interesting you know." She told them as they had a poke around. "Just a hidey hole." She leaned into Lucius and buried her head in the folds of his jacket, willing her headache to go away.

"We are done, Miss Potter." Fudge said from behind her.

"Good," she replied, straightening up and closing the hidden panel with a wave of her wand, "onto the vast array of items that I have gathered for you to see."

"It is a marvellous house." One of the women commented as they walked down the opulently carved staircase.

"Yes," she nodded, "twelve bedrooms, fourteen bathrooms, two dining rooms, three parlous, four drawing rooms, two studies, ballroom, billiards room, music room, attic, cellars, kitchens and half of Wiltshire." She reeled off. "Yes, I'm quite pleased with it actually." She finished dryly, being careful not to laugh at their stunned expressions. "Lucius, if you would just show them into the drawing room, I'll be back in just a moment." Giving him a quick peck on the cheek, she walked off in the direction of their bedroom. He could not help but smirk slightly; they all looked terrified at the prospect of being left alone with Lucius Malfoy.

"If you'll follow me." He said smoothly, leading them through to the drawing room next door to his study.

Head pounding, Kathryn walked straight into the bathroom and splashed her face with some cold water. Her head felt like it was about to split in two, something that she had not experienced since the night of the final battle, when Draco Malfoy had used the Cruciatus curse on her. Groaning, she clapped her hands and one of the House Elves appeared.

"What is it that I can be doing for you Mistress?" he asked, bowing low.

"Could you bring some tea coffee up to the study in about fifteen minutes?" she asked. "Enough for sixteen people."

"At once." The elf bowed and disappeared with a crack.

"Right," she spoke to herself, "pull yourself together," she took several deep breaths, "it's only a headache." Drying her face off, she replaced her glasses on her nose and walked through to the wardrobe to get one final thing. With the heavy blue box in her hand, she set off back towards the drawing room.

In the handsomely appointed room, each member of the Wizengamot was busy examining the things she had laid out for them to see. One large table was entirely covered with jewellery whilst her dresses floated eerily in mid-air, as if on invisible mannequins. Similarly, any other clothes that he had given her, like her favourite cloak, also hung in mid-air. Hanging at the end of the row of magnificent gowns was the outfit that she had worn during the final battle. She had made sure that it had been kept safe as it was, after all, a piece of history.

She had not set out the many notes that she had received from him, preferring that they did not invade her privacy any more than they were already doing. The only piece of paper that was set out was the set of deeds to what remained of her parents' house in Godric's Hollow.

"What, might I ask, was the first thing he gave you?" the witch with the fading blonde hair asked.

"Well," she shrugged, not letting go of the box, "I suppose it was this cloak." She walked over to the simple black cloak that he had given her when he returned her to London. "Although it wasn't really a gift, more a necessity for travelling at night seeing as he had presumably burned my other coat."

"So what was the first proper gift?"

"Diamonds." She replied simply, walking over to the table where all her jewellery was spread. "Lots and lots of diamonds."

"When?" Umbridge demanded.

"Just before the Christmas Ball at Hogwarts that year." She replied wistfully, running her fingers over the flawless stones. "A sort of Christmas gift really. Oh, and he sent me the dress too." She motioned at the black dress hanging nearest them. "I suppose you could say that was the first gift seeing as I received it in August, on the day he took me back to London."

"And what might that be." Fudge pointed at the box that was still firmly in her hands.

"Forty five million galleons." She replied with a smirk, opening the box to reveal the sparkling jewels inside. "I believe you've been wondering where they were." She added dryly, giving Lucius a smirk.

"And he gave this to you in Dubai, yes?"

"He did." She nodded. "And no, they are not insured, but up until the other day no one knew that I owned them."

"Thank you." Fudge nodded. "Might I just ask why your friends did not notice that you gained all of these things?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, "I didn't just hide in the house when we came home for the holidays, I went shopping, and they didn't think that the jewellery was real."

"What do you mean by real?"

"They just thought it was crystal or something like that, not real diamonds and stuff, I just told them that I picked them up in Diagon Alley."

"And they believed you?"

"They had no reason to think otherwise." She replied shortly. "Of course they did wonder who was sending me the dresses but they never seemed to make the link between my partnering Lucius and the arrival of a beautiful dress with no apparent note or card."

"Also the fact that you lied to them was probably a major factor." Umbridge shot in.

"The last time I checked," at least a head and shoulders taller than her, Kathryn rounded on Umbridge with a look of thunder on her face, "you were not a member of the Wizengamot and are therefore not qualified to make any comment." Lucius thought she was fabulous. Umbridge looked stunned and was unable to reply. "You are here at my discretion and are quickly outstaying your welcome." They still could not reply. "Now, is there anything else you wish to ask me?" her voice reverted to its normal, polite tone.

"These deeds," the wizard with the large eyebrows and moustache pointed out, "when did he give you these?

"Monday night," she replied amiably, "a belated birthday present. Apparently some Muggle company wanted to build something right next door. The deeds include the house and other lands around it." Not that there was much left after Voldemort's attack and Pettigrew's subsequent faking of his own death. No one had wanted to live there anymore and, when they had visited, the other houses were all in various states of disrepair.

"I must say, Miss Potter, it is hard to believe that you are in no way coerced into remaining at his side when looking at these gifts."

"Have I given you any reason to think that I need coercing, sir?" she asked politely, although a little something in her tone warned him to tread carefully. "I believe I stated my position the other day."

"But the terror you have experienced, the violence?" he tried to reason with her. "Surely you must need a better reason to stay."

"It has been forgiven." She told him sharply. "Everything that has happened has only served to make me stronger."

"Very well."

"How moved in are you?" the woman with the fading blonde hair asked. "You seem at ease in the house; technically somewhere you should be uncomfortable. Your clothes do not have the appearance of living out of a suitcase."

"I've had things here since about January." She replied. "I'm fairly moved in; after all, I've been here since the end of July. Minister Fudge saw to that."

"But you already had things here?"

"You know, small things," she explained, "spare underwear, socks, nightwear, a hairbrush, toothbrush," she listed, "it made it easier to travel light."

"And Mr Malfoy had no problem with this?"

"Did you?" she turned and asked Lucius directly, instead of answering for him.

"Not at all," he smiled, "it made everything easier. She could show up in her evening clothes and, if she so desired, be able to stay for several days."

"And what if you hadn't planned to stay, like the night he brought you back after Minister Fudge's Christmas reception?"

"Well, Lucius' clothes are so well cut that all it takes is a little re-sizing and I'm good to go." She answered with a smirk.

"How fortunate." There was a silence as they continued to look at everything she had laid out for them to see.

"Just out of curiosity," another piped up, "how large is the estate?"

"Four thousand acres." She shrugged, as if it wasn't much. "The house and gardens are set on five hundred; the rest is just countryside and farmland."

"And I understand that Minister Fudge placed you under house arrest?"

"He did, although his decision to have Dementors guard me was rather misguided and nearly resulted in my death." She explained, all the while glaring at Fudge.

"Oh."

"Since then, we have come to more acceptable terms." She smiled. "And I am not constrained for reasons that no one understands."

"Well…" Lucius said from the edge of the room, shrugging his shoulders.

"OK, well, I am still unaware as to what people consider me to be guilty of." She added with a smile back at Lucius. "If there is nothing else," she sensed that they were running out of questions, "there is some coffee and tea next door should you wish any refreshment." She waved her wand and the trays zoomed into the room. Settling themselves on the only available space left, Kathryn left the Wizengamot to help themselves whilst she tidied up the room. Fastening the string of grey pearls around her neck, everything else disappeared to its relevant drawers and rooms about the house. All the spare tables she had conjured disappeared and the room was as it normally was.

Taking the cup of tea that Lucius handed her, she leaned against him and hoped that they would not stay long.

"It is a magnificent house." One commented as he sipped his coffee, apparently at a loss for any other kind of conversation.

"It has been mentioned," she smiled dryly, "although more than I thought I'd have by the time I was twenty."

"But what do you do all day, I mean, if you're here on your own?" another asked, apparently quite interested.

"Oh I just wallow in my wealth." She replied dryly.

"Oh."

"Well what do you think I do?" she shrugged. "I read, go for walks, go riding, mope, plot world domination, sleep," she listed, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "but yes, it can get rather lonely. Minister Fudge's demands of me and the general public animosity have made it difficult to do much beyond the Estate. Although I have discovered that a door will be opened no matter what time I knock."

"And where did you live before this?"

"In London," she replied, wishing her headache would go away, "at the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix."

"You lived there?" Fudge spluttered.

"For five years, yes." She nodded in a nonchalant fashion, ignoring how surprised he was. "Why do you think we were impossible to find?"

"I thought that you were supposed to live with your Aunt and Uncle, or the Weasleys?"

"We only had to stay with my Aunt and Uncle for a week at most." She sighed thankfully, setting her cup down. "And who says that the Weasleys didn't live with us for a while? It's not like our lifestyles were exactly safe, what with the fighting for our lives lark. After all, such a high octane existence generally necessitates a nice secret place to live." She smirked wickedly as Fudge's face turned an interesting shade of pink

"I don't believe this!"

"Oh come on, Fudge, Harry and I have been members since we were about fifteen."

"I think," Fudge seemed to finally recover from the shock, "that it is time we were going."

"Very well." She nodded. "Please don't be offended if I don't show you out but I'm not sure that I have the energy to get down the stairs." The pounding in her head was still there and she felt her legs shake from standing for so long. With a few nodded goodbyes, they left.


	72. Chapter 72

A/N - Just a short chapter here....Kathryn finally gets to sleep and Lucius does some serious thinking.

Read, enjoy and please leave me a nice juicy review that will make me smile!

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"Catch me." Her legs buckled and she fell against him, too tired to stand anymore.

"Come on." He sighed. "Let's get you sorted out." Sweeping her up into his arms, he carried her back through to his bedroom. Setting her down on the bed, he waved his wand and she heard a bath begin to run.

"What are you doing?" she asked groggily, rubbing her temples in an attempt to stop the pounding in her head.

"You still smell of alcohol," he shrugged, removing his jacket and shirt, "you need a bath." He disappeared into the bathroom and she heard the taps stop.

"Can't I just go to sleep?" she moaned, lying down and pulling a pillow over her head.

"No." He replied simply, walking back over to the bed and helping her get out of her clothes.

"But I just want to go to sleep." She protested as he picked her up.

"No."

"Why not," she complained, although lacking the energy to stop him, "oh," he lowered her into the warm water, "that's why."

"See," he smiled in a self satisfied manner, "a good bath is good for any hangover." He slid in next to her and pulled her close.

"As is sleep." She countered as he carefully wet her hair, lathering shampoo in it to get rid of the smell of stagnant alcohol which still lingered.

Finally, after a blissful hour spent dozing on his shoulder, he lifted her out of the bath and tucked her away in bed. It was only half past four and yet she was sound asleep. He chuckled to himself as he let the drapes fall down one side of the bed, blocking out the light from the windows.

"The misadventures of youth." He sighed, pulling on his shirt and wandering through to his study. He could see that she had been anything but idle; the desk was covered in paperwork, including a copy of the document that gave her guardianship of the estate. The clause that gave her most concern was ringed in red ink several times. Around the edges were scribbled notes on how to avoid Draco regaining control.

Sitting down and putting his feet up on a nearby footstool, he looked over what she had noted down. Quite thankfully, it appeared that her life and studies had also taught her to read carefully into what was written. Technically, it stipulated that she had control if he and his son were incarcerated, but it did not mention what would happen if happen if Draco was free. It could be assumed that she had guardianship whilst either one of them was incarcerated, thus keeping her safe from a vengeful Draco, or it could be read as leaving her position void should Draco be free.

Turning back to his desk, he set quill to paper and began to draft letter to his solicitors. Hopefully, they would have sense to change the document before his son's trial. It was evident that Fudge was aiming for swift trials and convictions for all those save the major players, such as himself. Draco, with both Potters, Granger and Weasley corroborating the fact that he attempted to use the killing curse, and did use several unforgiveables, on them all, he was likely to find himself on the wrong end of a life sentence in Azkaban.

However, he had saved his son once before from the fate of Azkaban. What was to say that he could not provide the same defence and gain the same reprieve? However much he had wished it, his son had never been the man he was supposed to be. True, he had been spoiled insofar that he had expected everything to be delivered on a platter. That expectation had come from his time at Hogwarts, when he had been required to act like he thought a Malfoy should. The mere slip of a woman, however, that was lying in his bed seemed to understand what being a Malfoy really meant.

She was barely grown, yet could hold a room with a mere look; something which very few could manage. Her eyes, although beautiful, showed that she had seen the worst side of human nature. He had seen it when she was upset; a sharp glint of a greater pain belying whatever was upsetting her at that moment. It pained him to know that he was the cause of such agony, that he had been the one to hurt her so egregiously. He sometimes found himself wondering how she could still bear to look him the eye after what he had done to her, let alone find comfort in his arms.

He walked through his house, relishing the solitude, and gazing at the portraits on the walls. There were hundreds of years of Malfoys before his eyes and he found himself wondering how many of the families had actually been born of love. Arranged marriages were inherent in the Malfoy Family; many of his ancestors had been married for material reasons, as opposed to the wishes of their hearts. True, there had been some attraction and, at one point, love between he and Narcissa but he would be a fool to declare that he married her for her own merits. His marriage had been to preserve the purity of the Malfoy line, and also to increase the size of the Malfoy fortune upon the death of Narcissa's father.

The families, although numerous, were also painfully small. Many of the Malfoy children, like Draco, had grown up without siblings because they, the male heir, had been born first. It had been an unspoken rule that, once a male heir was born, the family could risk no more children for fear that it would tear the size of the estate in two. Female offspring were often pushed to the side in favour of the male.

He walked back to his study, darkness now beginning to fall, with these thoughts in his head. Giving her an eternity ring was as close as he had come to telling her how he felt. He had never been so explicit with his feelings before, and yet something made him feel like he should be.

"You know I'm surprised that she hasn't persuaded them to place you under house arrest." A dry voice spoke from the doorway. "After all she has managed to get so far."

"She is in little mood to negotiate." Lucius smirked as Snape moved further into the room.

"I'm surprised she lasted as long as she did."

"She's in bed now." Lucius chuckled. "Sleeping off a monster of a hangover."

"You do know there are potions for that?" Snape raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, but I think she needs the rest too."

"Indeed." Snape took a chair by the fire and Lucius moved to join him.

"I assume that I have you to thank for her safe return?" he asked. "Had her brother gone to fetch her, I would be reading about it here." He picked up that morning's copy of the Prophet. Instead of a photo of her having a drunken row with her brother gracing the front page, there was one of him carrying her unconscious form out of the courtroom. He didn't know how that photographer had managed to get a photo, or even got the camera in, but he assumed that Rita Skeeter had something to do with it.

"That you do," Snape nodded, "but it was nothing more than fulfilling a promise."

"You still have my thanks."

"To be honest, she wasn't half as bad as some of the Muggles I saw." Snape confessed.

"Really," Lucius sneered, "where was she?"

"Newcastle," Snape relied, "the place might be renowned for its ancient wizarding culture but I never want to go there in the middle of a Muggle night out." He went on to explain. "The women wore next to nothing and the men didn't seem to differ from the standard, lecherous drunk."

"What a wonderful place." Lucius drawled. "How much had she imbibed, just out of curiosity?"

"She'd had about half a bottle of vodka before she left here; I'm surprised she even managed to apparate."

"It's a good thing she didn't end up splinched in the middle of nowhere." He shook his head. "Thank god that she wasn't caught at it by the Prophet."

"I do think that that Fudge went too far though." Snape commented. "And her reaction was simply the culmination of too much stress."

"I do worry about how much she can take."

"I think she is stronger than most believe," Snape mused, "she has her mother in her. Lily was strong, I mean, she threw herself in front of her children without a thought for her own life."

"And I saw what she did in the forest," Lucius went on, "what she and her brother did. Walking out to face death like that was something beyond strength, beyond courage."

"And, despite everything," Snape added, taking a deep breath, "despite how cruel I have been to them, how I have ignored her prowess in Potions and her general achievements, she still thought I deserved to live. She could've left me there on the floor of the shrieking shack to bleed to death, but she didn't. She saw fit to save me, despite the danger it put she and her friends in."

"And then she walked calmly into Death's arms." Lucius finished as they were interrupted by a knock on the door. "Yes?" he called out and a house elf appeared through the door.

"Dinner is ready Sir." She squeaked. "Is Professor Snape joining you, Master?"

"Yes, we will dine in the family dining room."

"As you wish." The elf bowed low. "Will Mistress be joining Master and Professor Snape?"

"No." Snape noticed how Kathryn was referred to as 'mistress'. "She is asleep and is in no mood for dinner." With another low bow, the house elf disappeared.


	73. Chapter 73

A/N - Conversations over an excellent bottle of brandy. Snape poses the questions to which the wold wants the answers. THe real questions is, however, can Lucius give him answers? An interesting chapter as it allows you to see the viewpoint of someone who is observing all of these goings-on, whilst also giving some insight into Lucius' mind.

PLease read, enjoy and leave me a nice shiny review!!!

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After a delicious meal of French onion soup and stuffed pheasant, they retired to the main upstairs drawing room where a bottle of finest brandy and two glasses sat waiting.

"You know," Snape said as they settled themselves in comfortable armchairs, "there is only one question that the wizarding world wants answered right now."

"And that would be?" Lucius sipped his brandy.

"What are your intentions?"

"Is that really all they care about?"

"Well, your display this week wasn't exactly going to leave people, especially the press, without questions." He shot back. "And don't think I haven't noticed the new ring she's wearing."

"Nothing has been said." Lucius shook his head. "For all I know, she could pack her bags and leave tomorrow."

"Nothing has ever been said?" Snape could not believe that, for all her fire, she had said nothing.

"Not one syllable."

"And yet she still stands and defends you." Snape refilled his glass.

"Indeed." He swirled the rich, tawny coloured alcohol slowly around the glass.

"I think that's as good an indication as any."

"Oh I know how I feel, Severus, I just worry lest I misjudge her."

"Why?"

"I don't believe that I've ever felt this way about another person." Lucius explained. "I mean, I was married to Narcissa but there was never anything like this there."

"Well, it was no secret that your union with Narcissa was motivated, not by love, but by a quest for blood purity." Snape was quite frank. "I mean, your parents were still alive, as were hers, and it was in her interests to make a good marriage and it was in yours to have a good, pure-blood wife."

"Very true." Lucius was in no position to deny this as his father had given him a long talk on how he had to marry the right woman. "I did what was required of me."

"It is a rare thing that such marriages result in love," Snape went on, "that is why so many pure-blood men took mistresses."

"I was sure my father had one, yes," Lucius laughed, "but I never found any proof."

"Miss Potter, however, has come from a completely different background to you. She was born into a loving family and, although that was taken from her, she has grown up with loving friends."

"You seem to have given this a lot of thought, my friend, for having known about it for such a short time." Lucius refilled his glass.

"There has been precious little else on people's minds."

"True."

"Now, as I was saying, her capacity to love sets her apart from others. After all she has been through, surviving death and the Dark Lord many times, and surviving everything you put her through; it is amazing that she still has the capacity to feel anything more than despair."

"I won't deny that I have wronged her."

"But despite it all, she still loves. I know the Dark Lord mocked Dumbledore's obsession with the feeling, but it is true. It is love that saved her and her brother, it was the thought of those they loved that gave them the courage to walk into death's arms and it is love that saved them again. They died to save those they loved, thus protecting them."

"I," Lucius wanted to speak but could find nothing to say. Instead, he allowed Snape to continue.

"And I suspect that you were motivated by something more than normal concern when you lied to the Dark Lord. You knew that it could potentially cost you your life, yet you still lied. And again, once it was all over, you took it upon yourself to save her."

"I couldn't leave her," Lucius shook his head, "I had already watched her die once and the pain of it was terrible, as if part of me had died with her. And apart from that, she was in far worse shape than her brother, and would not have survived such injuries if left unattended."

"Stop trying to rationalise feelings which you don't fully understand." Snape chided him. "I tried, pretending that my feelings for Lily Potter were nothing more than desire." Snape shook his head. "I have spent the past twenty years grieving her loss, and will spend the rest of my life doing so."

"How can I be sure she feels the same way though?" Lucius asked. "There are so many men out there, younger than I am, and with infinitely better reputations."

"I think she would have left before now, had that been the case." Snape shook his head. "If she is anything like her mother, and I think she is in many ways, you do not want to let her go."

"You let Lily go."

"I was blinded by prejudice and determined to prove myself to people like you. I wanted to be accepted by someone, to have friends. I am ashamed of the things I said to her, and what my information eventually led to." Snape's voice wavered and he poured himself some more brandy. "Do not let her go or, mark my words, you will regret it for the rest of your life. I know it sound clichéd but that is the simple fact of it; I have lived with that pain my entire life."

"But if I say anything and end up locked away in Azkaban for the rest of my life?" he theorised. "That will cause her undue pain."

"But think of the pain you cause by saying nothing."

"But I show her how I feel, I mean, the things I have given her; the jewels, the dresses. I have bought her things without reason."

"Sometimes showing it is quite far from what is required." Snape shook his head.

"But I rarely did that with Narcissa, she had grown up with couture gowns for balls since she was fifteen. It does mean something. She tells me off for doing it but I can't help myself."

"Why do you still do it then?"

"Because I like the look on her face." He shrugged. "I like seeing her smile."

"Did it ever occur to you that she tells you off because the only thing she really wants from you is to hear you say how you feel, instead of laying diamonds around her neck in lieu of words?" Lucius could not reply.

"You know Lucius," Snape said after a moment of silence, refilling his friend's glass as he did so, "you might turn out to be quite the anomaly of your family."

"Why?"

"Well, apart from the fact that she is more powerful than you, how many Malfoys have been in a relationship based on love?" Snape asked. "I'd wager not that many."

"Your point being?"

"I do believe that, like her mother's love saved her, it is her love that will save you."

"How do you mean?" Lucius asked sceptically. "I doubt anything can save me now."

"It humanises you. For example, had Bellatrix Lestrange come to trial, there would be no one from the side of light, as it were, to fight for her. Of course, thanks to Molly Weasley, we will not have to witness such a farcical event."

"I would go as far as to suggest what they are putting her through is bordering on farcical though."

"But she speaks the truth?"

"Every word." Lucius nodded. "She has nothing to fear from the truth as she has done nothing wrong."

"I find it hard to believe that she could remain so steadfast, considering the great pressure she was under." Snape confessed. "I would have thought breaking her would've been easy, especially for you."

"Apparently I was wrong," he shrugged, sipping his brandy, "she never gave up anything, no matter how much pain I caused. So I gave up. She broke me."

"I gathered." Snape nodded. "Yet she still remained after that."

"I did not understand that either, but remain she did, and I am very glad of the fact."

"So, with that in mind, what are your intentions?"

"I'm hers if she'll have me." Lucius looked him straight in the eye.

"I thought as much." Severus could see no lie in his eyes.

"That bridge, however, is yet to be crossed." He shook his head. "I could not ask her such a thing when my future is uncertain."

"And what of an heir?" Snape asked curiously. "After all, Draco has turned out to be quite a disappointment, and is likely to be spending the rest of his life in Azkaban."

"I cannot deny that the thought has not crossed my mind but, again, it is too early to be thinking about such things."

"But what if, Lucius, what if?"

"Well, if, and this goes no further than this room, if she were to bear my child, I would make sure I did a damn sight better job than I did with Draco." Snape was quite taken aback by how candid he was being. "And I shall have a proper family, not one held together by nothing but a sense of duty."

"A noble sentiment."

"The truth." Lucius shook his head.

"You know it will not be received well." Snape reminded him. "No matter when it happens."

"It could be seen as bridging the gap, healing the wounds," Lucius suggested, swirling the amber liquid in his glass, "making a break from the past and showing the world that I am serious."

"Or simply a former Death Eater trying to rebuild his reputation, but still seeking the most beautiful, most powerful witch who is as good as pure-blood." Snape shook his head. "She would be vilified as a traitor, committing what some people would consider as the worst act of treason. Think of what she stands for, of all she has fought for."

"She has fought for me." Lucius countered. "What else are people going to expect?"

"I don't know. Even if they can see it coming, they will reject it. People are like that." Lucius knew that Snape was right. "And if you do marry her, you do realise that I will be infinitely jealous."

"Why?"

"You'd get to marry the image of the woman I loved." Snape admitted.

"My apologies in advance." Despite his long friendship with Severus, Lucius had never known of his love for the woman whose sacrifice had, in effect, saved so many.

"Don't worry," Snape shook his head, "I am content to watch over her, less so her brother because he can be rather vexing. In time, I hope she will allow me to think of her as the daughter I never had."

"Be careful," Lucius laughed, "I feel the brandy has loosened your tongue. You'd best be careful who you disclose things like this too otherwise your reputation will be lost, and then who will students fear?"

"Well it's true, and I trust you never to repeat any of this." Snape smirked back at his friend. "But no, if I had a daughter, she would be the kind of daughter I would want."

"You're going soft, Severus old friend."

"What about you?" Snape replied incredulously. "I'd hardly think you are one to talk. I laugh at the thought of what Bellatrix would say if she were still alive, and of what the others will be saying."

"Indeed, I am glad that she derives pleasure from pushing Fudge around as that has guaranteed me some measure of security in Azkaban." Lucius explained. "I am kept separate, although not that far, and in marginally better accommodation than the rest."

"I'd wager they don't take to that kindly."

"No, they do not. I hear them screaming for me in the night." He confessed. "Screaming for my blood. They have managed to get hold of newspapers, they know what happened. They call out in the dead of night what they will do to her should they ever escape," his voice shook with anger, "and how they will make me watch."

"Well, to them you are now worse than the Weasleys and all other so-called blood traitors. You knowingly prevented their death at the hands of the Dark Lord," Snape shrugged, "and because of that, they went on to victory."

"I just worry; that after all that she has been though, she still needs to be protected. At the moment, that protection is from the public at large, until they get it into their stubborn heads that she has done nothing wrong."

"I think that, after taking on the Dark Lord and winning, a handful of Death Eaters should be child's play. Besides, there is no Dark Lord to help his followers escape, and no one else has ever got out, save of course Sirius Black."

"I just want her safe." He sighed. "I feel guilty that she cannot walk freely, after fighting for her freedom for so long."

"She does walk freely," Snape corrected him, "people have learned to let her do so." Walking over to his desk, Lucius unlocked one of the hidden drawers and pulled out a few sheets of paper that appeared to be newspaper clippings.

"Come with me." Puzzled as to his intentions, Snape followed his friend through to the vast, long hallway that was the portrait gallery.

"Could you see her there?" he asked, nodding at where Narcissa's portrait presently hung.

"I don't know." Snape shrugged. "It is quite a place to fill."

"The thing is, I can." He handed Snape the pieces of paper, which turned out to be images of her clipped from the Prophet. One was the photo of them taken at the World Cup, the other of her alone; smiling for the cameras at Fudge's Christmas reception. Snape didn't want to admit it, but he could see her there too.

"I think," Snape finally said after several moments' silence, "I think it would suit her well."

"I'm glad you think so." He placed the clippings on a small table before walking thoughtfully down the hall, gazing at the generations of Malfoys that looked down on him. Snape followed him as he meandered along, eventually reaching the imposing doors to his suite of rooms. Pushing the heavy door open, Lucius walked inside with Snape at his heels. She was still there, barely moved since he left her, swathed in the darkness made by the hangings.

"But how do you undo so much wrong?" he asked. "How do you make things right?"

"I don't know," Snape shook his head, "but I doubt that she would be here if she thought you had still to make amends." Giving his friend a pat on the back, he turned to leave.

"Thank you, Severus," Lucius said, just as Snape crossed the threshold, "you are a good friend." With a small nod of acknowledgement, Snape closed the door behind him.

Waving his wand, the curtains that were hanging down one side of the bed returned to their original position. Gazing into the grand mirror above the fireplace, the clock struck twelve, and he pondered what he and Severus had talked about. He worried that telling her such things would only make it harder for her to cope when the Wizengamot finally decided his fate. But, on the other hand, he did not want her to think that he did not care for her.

"I do not deserve you." He sighed to himself, gazing at her reflection in the mirror.

"Yes you do." A quiet voice murmured after a few moments. Quite startled, he turned around to see her stirring beneath the duvet.

"Sorry," he apologised as she rubbed her eyes blearily, "I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's alright," she shook her head, "I was half awake anyway."

"Are you feeling alright?"

"Much better," she smiled, "are you coming to bed?" she asked, stretching out teasingly and adjusting her pillows.

"I'll be through in a minute." When he returned, in his pyjama bottoms, she was sat up in bed with her arms draped over her knees.

"So what have you been up to all this time?" she asked, gazing at him over the top of her glasses as she absent-mindedly fiddled with the embroidery on the duvet cover.

"Severus called and he stayed for dinner," he shrugged, "nothing much really."

"Did he have anything interesting to say?" she asked curiously.

"Not really, although he was surprised that you hadn't persuaded the Wizengamot to keep me under house arrest." He slipped in beside her.

"Well, I could try, but I would actually have to do some digging and find the things they don't want people to know." She smirked, lying back down next to him. "That might work quite well when all it took was a very slight hint of a threat to get you home for the weekend."

"Well, that's for another time." He murmured, extinguishing the lamps. "I thought you needed sleep."

"I've had sleep," she murmured back, her lips meeting his in the dark, "you may need to tire me out again." She pushed her body flush up against his. He didn't know when she had done it, but her pyjamas were quite notably missing.

She tasted brandy on his lips as he kissed her, his arms holding her tight to him, as if he would never let go.

"You've been drinking." She murmured with a smirk, tangling her hands in his hair.

"You're not one to talk." He shot back as his hands moved lower.

"Oh you're cruel, I only mean-"she did not finish her sentence properly, however, losing the ability to talk as he touched her.

"I know you've had rest but aren't I allowed some?" he asked, pulling slightly away. "Azkaban isn't the most restful of places."

"Oh, alright then," she looked quite taken aback and turned to face away from him, pulling the covers over her shoulders, "goodnight." He reached out for her but she shuffled further away, her arms wrapping protectively about her waist. Frustrated with himself for annoying her when they had precious little time together, he laid his head on the pillow and closed his eyes, hoping that she would come round. Kathryn heard his sigh and smirked to herself, waiting for the opportune moment. After about ten minutes, he sounded like he was just about drifting off to sleep she waited another ten until she was absolutely sure and then she made her move.

Sliding slowly across the mattress, she gently stroked a hand through his hair whilst she whispered in his ear.

"Of course," the words seemed to drift through his ears like a dream, "I'm surprised that you turn down such amusement," the hand gently touching his chest was definitely real, "when there is such pleasure to be had." The hand moved lower, its pace infuriatingly, deliberately slow, until he knew this could not possibly be a dream.

His eyes opened to meet hers, wide and full of desire, his breath coming in gasps as she placed a chaste kiss on his lips.

"I knew you'd yield eventually." She murmured in his ear, smirking as he reacted so well to her attentions. He could not offer any words of reply.

"But of course if you'd rather sleep," she pulled away suddenly, much to his annoyance, "I understand." Her face lit up as his hands reached for her and firmly pulled her back across the mattress to him.

With her back tight against his chest, his hands eagerly repaid her the favour, and he delighted in the way she writhed against him as a flush crept into her cheeks. She moved with him as he manoeuvred into a kneeling position on the mattress, wrapping her legs around him and rocking her hips as her head lolled backwards in utter rapture. He held her close, moving slowly, languidly even, determined to make it last as long as possible. She did not complain, enjoying they way he held her tight; his hands roaming every inch of her body as if trying to commit it to memory. She did the same, her hands tracing the gentle contours of his face, despite the fact that she already knew them by heart.

He didn't know if she had ever been as intoxicating, or whether it was his long conversation with Severus that had made him desire her even more. Maybe it was time to admit feelings he had kept secret for some time.

She was finding it difficult to stay focused as their lips met in kiss after fiery kiss. Everything about this felt so right, from the way he would smile at her from across the room, to the way he held her in the dark hours of the night. She had always told herself that she had to be careful to whom she gave her heart, yet he had stolen it from her without her even noticing.


	74. Chapter 74

A/N - Oh yes...Chapter 74 is here and that can only mean one thing.....I have finished my exams!!!! Wow.....I've finished my degree......*scared silence as I ponder what the hell I'm going to do next*.....

Anyway, onto the summary of this chapter. A bit of late night pondering and a frank discussion with someone you would least expect....I'll say no more and leave you to discover the identity of our mystery person!

Please read, enjoy and leave me a shiny review to brighten up my day!

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Nestled in her favourite spot, just in the crook of his arm, she gazed at his sleeping face in the early hours of the morning. It was a wretched beginning, having such indescribable feelings for the most unlikely of candidates.

"How am I ever going to explain this?" she sighed, being careful not to wake him as she slipped out from beneath the covers. Pulling on her favourite green dressing gown of his, left draped over the back of a chair by a House Elf in preparation for the morning, she tiptoed across the room and into the wardrobe. Her jewellery was where he had left it on the dressing table, carefully laid on the rectangle of blue velvet that was meant to protect the stones from hard surfaces. Finding the eternity ring in the darkness, she walked quietly through the bedroom and slipped out the French doors onto the large balcony.

Settling herself on her favourite chaise lounge, she pulled the dressing gown tighter about her shoulders and gazed at the many twinkling facets in the moonlight. The ring was by no means obtrusive on her finger, but the stones were larger than she had ever seen in an eternity ring. She knew that it would not have come cheap; the stones flawlessly set and brilliant beyond measure. She twirled it round and round in her fingers, the stones glowing in the moonlight. The thought of whether he meant it had been dogging her mind since she had found the ring. Could it be that the man lying inside asleep was offering her his heart? Would Lucius Malfoy ever admit something like that?

"You know," his voice sounded from the doorway, "most people sleep in beds." Jumping a good few inches off her seat, she quickly slipped the ring into the pocket of her dressing gown.

"I know," she sighed, "I just had some things on my mind."

"Anything you want to talk about?"

"No," she shook her head, the lie whispering past her lips easily, "it's fine."

"Are you sure?"

"No." she sighed, standing up and pulling the dressing gown tighter around her against the autumnal chill that permeated the air. "I'm not sure of a lot of things at the moment."

"You can be sure of me." He whispered in her ear, sidling up behind her and wrapping his arms about her waist.

"Promise?" she asked with a small smile.

"No matter where I am." He nodded. "Promise." They stood there for a few minutes longer, gazing out over the dark grounds before he spoke again.

"Can we go back in now? I'm freezing!"

"Serves you right for coming out unsuitably attired." She chastised him with a smirk, following him back inside.

"You're not exactly one to talk." He shot back as she disappeared inside the wardrobe and replaced the ring.

"Does it really matter?" she asked as she reappeared, slipping the lavish robe off her shoulders and crawling in next to him.

"No." he sighed, pulling her to him and holding her close.

"You know," she said quietly in the still room, "I did mean it earlier. You do deserve me. I owe you so much, I mean; you risked your life for me."

"You have no debt to me." He shook his head, looking at her in the darkness. "Considering past events," he said slowly, "I find the notion of you owing me anything, frankly, quite perverse."

He chuckled in the dark and pulled her closer, the discussion at an end. She smiled contentedly as he stroked his hands through her hair, lulling her back towards sleep. This was what it was meant to feel like.

She woke promptly in the morning, despite only having gone to sleep in the early hours. Slipping carefully out of bed, she pulled on her pyjamas and dressing gown before slinking out of the door. After being furnished with a steaming mug of tea by the house elves down in the kitchen, she meandered back to his study and settled herself in his desk chair; curling her feet beneath her and looking out at the grounds as the sun rose higher in the sky. She was just taking a sip of tea when someone gave a soft cough in the dimly lit room. Her hand jerked and tea slopped down her front, burning her through the thin cotton of her top.

"Damn." She cursed under her breath before looking round to see who it was. "Who's there?" she asked the empty room. "Lucius?"

"Not quite." A voice replied. She watched as a stately man, who had a distinct resemblance to Lucius, appeared in a large picture frame to her right. "Abraxas Malfoy." He introduced himself and gave her a small bow.

"Ah yes," she leaned back in her chair and turned to face him, taking a languid sip of her tea, "the father." She gave him an appraising look. She could definitely see where Lucius got his features from, although Abraxas was broader still and had a set of quite fearsome whiskers that put Kathryn in mind of an old Muggle General, or something along those lines.

"Kathryn Potter." She introduced herself, giving him a nod of acknowledgement.

"Ah yes," he used her wording, "the lover."

"Nice to meet you too." She shot back dryly. "And to what do I owe this conversation?"

"I merely wish to ascertain the character of the woman my son deems so worthy." He explained, looking at her with cool, calculating eyes.

"Well, I suppose I could oblige."

"I knew he must be up to something when he kept on covering the portraits, I just hadn't imagined that the something would be you."

"Well, surprise." She drawled coolly. "To be honest I never would have considered it possible that I could be anything to Lucius Malfoy, so I suppose that we are equally shocked."

"He cares for you, you know." This statement came as quite a shock; she hadn't expected him to be this candid.

"Really?" she asked quietly.

"More than I have ever seen him care for anyone before." Abraxas explained. "He was always very careful with his emotions, kept them private. Just like I taught him."

"What a good son." She mused. "Did you teach him to follow a megalomaniac with tendencies towards genocide, or was that his own choice?"

"I taught him the beliefs which I considered appropriate," he replied cautiously, "so in a sense I am partially to blame."

"That alliance could cost your son everything," she reminded him quietly, "it is going to cost your grandson dearly too."

"From what I have managed to discern, your presence might diminish such harsh consequences, at least for my son."

"That is yet to be seen, what I have said could destroy him." She sighed.

"So how long have you been involved?" he asked inquisitively.

"Two years in total. The first very unwillingly on my part; he hurt me more than I could possibly explain." She told him quietly. "The second was much more desired."

"To be honest, I never expected him to take a mistress." The portrait Abraxas shook his head. "He always understood the image he had to maintain."

"I was never his mistress!" she shot back angrily. "I wish people would get that into their heads."

"My dear, what else could you have been?" he said with a mild chuckle. "It is a centuries old tradition."

"Well, for a year I was an object for him to use and abuse at his leisure." She explained firmly, setting her mug down with a bang. Abraxas grimaced slightly. "Oh yes," she said with relish, "what do you think of your son now? Was that behaviour that you taught him too?" silence hung in the air before she spoke again.

"After that ended, I saw him three times before Narcissa died, that is in no way enough to qualify me as his mistress. Mistresses are more long term affairs, of which wives are usually aware." She pointed out.

"Then if he treated you so ill, why are you still here?" he shot back, apparently quite a spirited fellow, even in portrait form.

"Because," she took a deep breath, "because I care for him too."

"Ah," a smile flickered across his features, "I thought as much. I have had enough time to watch you after all."

"And what are your conclusions?" she wasn't sure if she wanted to hear.

"All in all," he paused for effect, "I think you are a fine young woman."

"Thank you," she nodded in acknowledgement, "but many see it otherwise at the moment."

"Of course, Narcissa was a fine woman too." He mused. "Very fine."

"Well I'm glad I've just about passed muster." She sighed, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

"I didn't mean it like that," he shot back, "what I mean is that she was, and you are, fine in very different ways."

"Such as?"

"Narcissa was fine because she was raised to be so. She was a young woman of considerable inheritance and very good, pure-blood family."

"Because they are the most important qualities." She commented wryly.

"At that point they were." He offered by way of justification. "She understood her place was at the side of, and always behind her husband. She understood the duty she had to give him an heir to the family name. She had grace and poise and was always impeccably presented, thus preserving the name of the family."

"I'm sure you were very pleased."

"Oh, we were." He nodded. "You, however, are most different. You were not raised to be a fine lady; you were raised to be who you are. From what I have managed to glean from general conversation, that is a kind, brave and fiercely loyal young woman. You have experienced much pain in your life, yet show little sign of resentment and are capable of forgiveness."

"Thank you." She was quite shocked that this was his opinion of her.

"Whereas Narcissa's beauty was strictly maintained with powder and pins, yours is free and intense. You do not care for appearances when you are in the house," he went on, "you are quite happy to go about business in your pyjamas. Narcissa would never let herself be caught out of her rooms so improperly attired."

"It's comfortable," she shrugged, "why should anyone be bothered anyway?"

"There's another key difference you know," Kathryn couldn't believe he was still going on, "you are quite like Lucius in many respects. You match him. Lucius has always been political. I came from an age where things were sorted with wands, not words. Lucius, however, he has always been a political animal. Not that he can't stand up and fight if needs be."

"I know that." Kathryn interrupted.

"But he knows how to gain influence, and as a consequence, get what he wants. You similarly are not afraid to throw your political weight around, form what I have seen at least. You are the equal of him the way Narcissa never was."

"And what of my blood?" she asked provokingly. "What of my family and friends, surely you must have some objections?"

"I was wondering whether you would bring that up." He shifted around uncomfortably and would not meet her gaze.

"Well, it isn't exactly something that can be avoided, considering the stock your family has put in it over the years."

"Indeed." He shifted uncomfortably again. "I don't really know how to answer, if you wish me to be honest."

"At least you admit it." She replied with a small smile.

"I will give you an answer when I know," he promised, "after all, time has changed; blood purity is of little matter to most."

"Very well." She nodded. "Although I have a nagging feeling that it will be the distinction between 'fine' and 'very fine'." She stood and vanished her empty mug with a wave of her wand. "I should get going," she glanced over at the clock, "Lucius might be up now."

"It has been a pleasure, Miss Potter." He gave her a small bow.

"It has." She smiled, nodding her head in acknowledgement before walking back towards the door.

"You know," he called just as she was stepping over the threshold, "what makes you very fine is not your blood, it is the fact that you do not abandon him." All Kathryn could do was nod in response before disappearing round the door, she had no words.

She walked slowly down the long gallery, looking at the generations of Malfoys that hung on the walls. The women were all elegant, although very haughty. She stopped before a portrait of Lucius with his parents. He must have only been the same age as she was now, maybe a year or so younger, yet he had the look in his eyes of someone much older. He had been very handsome then too; his father's chiselled featured softened by his mother's refined face. His eyes held the same look that she had seen trained in her direction so many times.

Moving on, she found a portrait of Lucius and Narcissa on their wedding day. Peering at the date in the corner, next to the artist's signature, she calculated that he was only twenty one and, from her best recollection, Narcissa was eighteen. They were outside somewhere, possibly the gardens, although she couldn't really tell. Narcissa's hair was held up in an elegant French twist and had small white flowers pinned artfully in it. Her smile was small, demure, but genuine as she held her delicate, finely crafted bouquet. Lucius had a small smile on his face, but he did look satisfied; as if he knew he'd made his parents proud by marrying the right girl.

Looking further, she found a portrait of Narcissa on her own. She was sat on a chaise lounge in the downstairs drawing room and, although she did not look much older than in her wedding portrait, her face had changed. It was cold, aloof; the look in her eyes saying that she was superior to everyone else and she knew it. It was an expression that Kathryn had seen her wear many times.

Her official portrait, as it were, was next to the large one of Lucius in the middle of the gallery. Had this one been wearing the same expression, she couldn't tell; she was turned steadfastly away from Kathryn and she doubted that she would deign to look at her any time soon.

"I never stole him you know." She said quietly. "Whatever you may think it was like, it wasn't. It didn't begin wilfully, at least, certainly not on my part. And I never would've wished you dead." She finished, hoping to mend something between herself and a woman she never knew.

"Don't talk to me." Narcissa's voice was icy cold. She gave Kathryn one haughty, hateful glance over her shoulder before sweeping out of her frame.

Kathryn sighed and kept on walking. Was she ready to add her face these walls? She had never taken Divination but, looking into her future, one thing she could certainly see was Lucius. More conflicted than ever, she walked back to her room, the curtains now open and light flooding into the house. Was she ready to be mistress proper of all this? It was more than she'd ever dreamed of, although, it was true that most of her dreams had centred on surviving her teenage years.

Lucius was stirring as she slipped back through to door, his arms seeking her out across the mattress. She smiled when she saw him; his eyes only half open, his hair messy and falling in front of his eyes. Crossing the room, she perched on the mattress beside his head.

"I'm here." She whispered in his ear, stroking a hand through his hair and planting a soft kiss on his cheek.

"What are you doing up so early?" he asked blearily, rubbing sleep out if his eyes.

"Just woke up," she shrugged, "went and had a cup of tea."

"How nice," he murmured, "now come here." Wrapping his arm awkwardly around her waist, he rolled sharply over; pulling her with him so that she ended up lying next to him.

"Very mature." She chided as he hugged her close.

"It's Saturday morning, you are allowed to stay in bed." He murmured.

"I might have things to do you know?" she replied. "Important people to meet," she listed, "strategies to plan, letters to write." She turned her head and smirked at him. "And a wonderful man to spend the day with so you'd better clear off before he arrives!"

"Oh very funny." He drawled, darting forward and capturing her lips in a searing kiss. Tangling her hands in his hair, she relished the sweet oblivion that overtook everything as he kissed her. She didn't care what other people said or what it cost her, she would gladly trade her good reputation and everything else just to be able to wake up next to him. To be brutally honest, she felt like she already had.

"Professor Snape is supposed to be coming over you know." She told him between kisses. "And I can't very well see him whilst in a compromising situation!"

"Wrong." He told her with a smile. "Severus told me to let you know that he will begin what you asked tomorrow, but will leave you in peace for the weekend as he thought you would want plenty of time and privacy."

"Oh, that's nice." She was slightly surprised at this but then again, she had discovered that there was a lot more to Snape than she had originally thought. "Still, people are coming for lunch." She remembered inviting at least Harry, Ron and Hermione the day before.

"That's hours away." She hated how good he was at distracting her, yet loved it at the same time.

"Fine!" she sighed, giving up and snuggling back into his embrace. "But promise we'll actually get up."

"Promise." He nodded. "It's just that eight in the morning is too early for a Saturday."

"Alright," she brushed a stray lock of hair out of his face, "I can't argue there." Kissing him once more, she set her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes as one of his hands aimlessly stroked through her hair whilst the other held her close. After so long spent sleeping in the spacious bed with no one beside her, she relished the feel of his warm body against hers. She knew that most of the public probably thought that their relationship was nothing but physical, and that it had very little meaning beyond that. It would shock them therefore that, whilst she could not deny loving the physical aspect, the feeling of contentment that his holding her gave could surpass any other means of gratification.

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A/N - Hee hee...I bet you didn't expect it to be Abraxas....did you? Anyway, seeing as we have never been given any clue as to Abraxas' appearance, I have based it on the drawings by the wonderful artist Makani who you can find on deviant art or on her own site, acciobrain. The two pictures that were my inspiration can be found on her acciobrain site:-

- 'Abraxas Malfoy' in the 2005 section

- 'Portrait of Lucius and his Parents'

Just type acciobrain into your search engine and it will probably be the first result you get! Oh, and I should probably mention that I imagine Narcissa to be a lot like the way makani draws her...not like the *rubbish* film version, I think she looks two old, and what's with the two tone hair??? Narcissa is meant to be the Pureblood uber-wife....the benchmark if you will.....not with two-tone hair and bad taste in clothes....oh I could go on.....


	75. Chapter 75

A/N - Well, it's just turning out to be a day full of opinions isn't it? Although this time we hear from the living.

Please read, enjoy and leave me a happy shiny review to make me write faster!! Enjoy!

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They lay there, drifting between sleep and waking, ignoring the birds that sang outside and the light that filtered through the curtains. Just before ten, a pair of bright blue eyes peered through a crack in the door, before disappearing.

"Begging your pardon Master." The high pitched voice sounded in the semi-darkness.

"Yes?" she replied quietly as Lucius stirred next to her. "What time is it?"

"It has just gone ten Mistress."

"And what is it you want?" Lucius asked as she rubbed sleep from her eyes and reached for her glasses.

"Professor Dumbledore is just arriving, Sir." The elf gave a low bow as he relayed the information.

"What?" Kathryn bolted upright, straight out of Lucius' arms.

"He is just arriving and says that he is wanting to speak to Miss Potter." The house elf squeaked.

"She will be down as fast as she can. Bring some tea." Lucius said, effectively dismissing the elf, who disappeared with a crack.

"Why is he here?" she muttered to herself as she scrabbled out of bed and into the bathroom.

"To see you obviously." Lucius remarked back dryly.

"Oh very funny." She called back, emerging as she rubbed moisturiser onto her face. "I'm serious, he hasn't spoken to me since it was discovered you know." Not stopping, she continued on into the wardrobe. "I'm sure he despises me."

"I highly doubt that." he contradicted, pulling on his dressing gown and going to pour himself a cup of tea from the pot a house elf had just arrived with. "You have done too much good for him ever to despise you."

"Well," she reappeared dressed in dark, figure hugging jeans tucked into black boots, a midnight blue vest top and a thick, black shrug, "we'll soon find out." Cheekily, she took his cup and finished the tea off. "Do I look ok?"

"Turn round." Obediently, she did so and was surprised to feel him take her hair in his hands. Taking his wand, he conjured a length of thick ribbon the same colour as her shrug and used it to corral her wavy hair at the nape of her neck. "There, much neater."

"Thanks." She turned back round, replaced the cup in his hands and made to leave, only to have him grab her wrist and pull her back.

"Not so fast." He kissed her quickly before releasing her to go downstairs.

"Come down in a little while." She told him as she slipped out of the door.

She found Dumbledore in the back drawing room, looking out over the gardens.

"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, Professor." She said politely as she walked in. "You haven't been waiting long, have you?"

"Not at all, Kathryn." Dumbledore shook his head, a kind smile on his face, his blue eyes twinkling behind half-moon spectacles. "My apologies for waking you up."

"I was in need of a long morning in bed!" she laughed. "Would you like some tea? Or coffee?"

"Yes, thank you," he nodded, "I was offered it by one of your house elves but I preferred to wait."

"Any particular kind?" she asked as a house elf appeared.

"Earl Grey with lemon if you have it."

"Certainly." The elf nodded fervently, having heard what Dumbledore had asked for. "And I'll have coffee." She added. With a low bow, the house elf disappeared.

"How are you this morning?" he asked, taking a seat in a comfortably upholstered armchair.

"Much recovered," she replied with a small smile, settling herself on a chaise lounge adjacent to Dumbledore, "thank you." A house elf appeared through the door with tea and coffee on a tray.

Dumbledore regarded his former student for a few moments as the drinks were set on a small table. Her face was quite neutral, betraying nothing, yet mysterious at the same time; as if enticing him to keep on looking. Yet when he looked into her eyes, he saw fatigue and a pain etched into them. Her clothes were similar to those he had seen her wear at school and when she had been living at Grimmauld Place, if a bit more subdued. Having seen her through the course of the week, however, Dumbledore knew that this outfit was a simple affair compared to what she had concealed upstairs. She looked completely at ease as she was handed a steaming cup of black coffee; she was no guest in this house.

Since everything had come to light, Dumbledore had found himself wondering how he had missed it. How had he not seen the stolen glances, the very real smiles? She had sat before him dressed in sumptuous gowns and prestigious jewels, on the arm of such a man, and he had suspected nothing. He had looked into her eyes and seen no hint of deception, her mind strictly protected against invasion. Yet he had not seen that protection; her mind had been open, as if there was nothing to conceal.

And now here she was sat before him, apparently as practiced at, and as comfortable with, using her influence to get what she wanted just as much as the man who lay upstairs. Indeed, his presence upstairs was testament to that.

"I must confess that I am surprised at your visit." She began once the house elf disappeared again. "I hadn't expected to see you at all. I know that general public opinion isn't exactly in my favour at the moment."

"And why should that affect my paying you a visit?" he asked curiously, his twinkling blue eyes meeting her deep green.

"Well, I lied to you." She replied plainly. "I lied to everyone. I betrayed everything I stood for, for someone who was everything I hate. You have every right not to want to see me."

"I must admit that I was initially unsure of what to think." Dumbledore explained in a friendly voice. "After Fudge placed you under house arrest you were effectively swallowed by the house." He explained. "I hear what your brother and the others said after they visited you. They were scared at the change they saw. Considering all that they had discovered, although now it was comparatively little, they did not know you anymore."

"I know that this has been hard to accept." She nodded. "And they have every right to be angry. I will not challenge them."

"I confess that I was angry," he told her, sipping his tea, "but it was more anger at you not telling me. I still do not understand why you didn't."

"I know I could've told you and been safe," she admitted with a sigh, staring down into her lap, "but he wanted to break me. If I'd told you, he would have won. I didn't want to admit my weakness by passing responsibility to someone else."

"Of course, there was also disbelief as I had suspected nothing. I had seen you together and had not seen anything beyond what was there."

"You saw what I wanted you to see." She corrected. "At least, last year that is, before that you'd seen what he wanted you to see."

"But I never questioned it. I should have. You were thrown together too much to be only coincidence."

"I made it look like coincidence; you've seen and heard that this week." She shook her head. "You should not admonish yourself for not seeing anything. Besides, you had more important things to think about."

"But you were one of those important things," he reminded her," you and your brother both were. Your safety was key to everything."

"I put myself in danger, not you." She shook her head. "Anyway, it is done and there is little point regretting what we cannot change."

"Indeed." Dumbledore took another sip of tea before continuing. "Now, with regard to my purpose here today, I assume that you have noticed that you have not seen me since you left school that morning in June?"

"I had, yes."

"Well, I now come before you to tell you what I think as I, like the rest, have had to wait to hear exactly what transpired."

"Surely you understand my reasons as to why I have waited?"

"I do, and I admire them." He smiled and nodded. "Now, although I might have been angry at the lies you told, I now wish you to know that I consider your actions noble and exceedingly brave."

"Thank you."

"To the unknowing eye, what you did seems foolhardy. I cannot deny that it was, but it your actions afterward that make the difference. I could not be prouder of you for what you did. I know that it was a great personal sacrifice, and risk. We all owe you a great debt."

"You owe me no debt." She shook he head, setting her empty cup down. "I did what I had to."

"I understand, indeed, I admire your resilience to such a monstrous means of torment and I cannot begin to imagine how it must have pained you. I see now, you know, how he flaunted it and no one realised. I guess you had done so much and proved yourself so strong that we never thought that such a thing could occur."

"You know I wanted it to deal with it myself because I did not want to admit that such a thing happened to me, don't you?" she told him with complete honesty. "It was just the way he was about it," she tried to explain, "so gentlemanly. In public he'd take my arm, hold open doors, and help me in and out of cars. In private he would have his way and I would let him because I'd learned that the price of refusal was worse than the humiliation of being compliant."

"Be assured that I think no less of you for what you did."

"But what about after, when it became everything it never should have been?" she asked. "You cannot think so highly of me then, can you?"

"Well," Dumbledore seemed to be choosing his words carefully, "I must admit that the turn in events was quite shocking. I'll admit to not really knowing you before that point. For the past two years I have had no inkling of anything but politeness between yourself and Mr Malfoy. With your discovery of the intent of that portkey, I began to suspect some partiality on his part, but certainly nothing on yours."

"No one ever did. Hermione was the one who suspected that his attentions had more than politeness behind them. I suppose who I was meant that I was in no danger of suspicion. They could not even contemplate that I was capable of what was really going on."

"It was only when you were not to be found that something was suspected. It was Harry that got the link between your being missing and Mr Malfoy's absence from those Death Eaters either dead or captured." Dumbledore explained to an intently listening Kathryn. She had never actually been told how they had been led to Malfoy Manor in the first place. "That was when we began to fear the worst, for you were badly injured."

"Yet you did not arrive until morning?"

"That was a decision on my part," he went on, "I didn't think that it was prudent to go charging in here straight away when we were substantially weakened. We also believed that he would prefer to use you as a bargaining tool. We never dreamed that you would be safe."

"He saved me." She said quietly. "He saved Harry. I owe him so much, yet he does not hold the debt."

"Indeed," Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully, "not something many would expect of Lucius Malfoy I think."

"No." She shook her head. "Most of what I know is a far cry from the Lucius Malfoy that other people see."

"And that is what you must prove." Dumbledore gave her an encouraging smile. "And I have no doubt that you shall do so with considerable aplomb."

"And what else do you think?" she asked. "If you don't mind me asking that is."

"Of course you may ask, after all, that is partially why I came." Dumbledore smiled. "I am immensely proud of you and I greatly appreciate the personal sacrifice you made, we all do. It was incredibly selfless and I could not have hoped for you to do anything braver. As for the other side of what happened, aside from that fact that you had such a high-ranking Death Eater in your pall and you did not exploit it, I think you very courageous to stand by what you have done."

"I knew I would have to, from the very moment I sought him out I knew that I would one day have to answer for my actions."

"Something which you have been doing although, forgive me, it appears that there is still something you are not saying." Dumbledore gazed at her with those extraordinary blue eyes.

"I do not know if I can say it." Although she did not give any subject, Dumbledore knew of what she was speaking. "What would such an admission make me? Would anyone believe it for what it is?"

"Only you can answer those questions." Dumbledore replied wisely. "Although I must confess, I arrived before you were woken up and looked in on you."

"Oh."

"If you fear a lack of reciprocation, from what I have seen, I would question why."

"Ah, so you know that Lucius is here."

"Yes, that was quietly done compared to the start of the week."

"Well, I casually threatened them with exposing any of their dark secrets."

"You know their dark secrets?" Dumbledore asked curiously.

"No," she smirked, "but there's no harm in looking. I don't dare ask whether you approve."

"Approve of what?" he asked with a mysterious twinkle in her eye. "I do not know whether I dare venture comment on your threatening the Wizengamot." He chuckled.

"Well, it's only a threat if you take it so." She shrugged.

"As for your bringing him home, well, that is your business. Just between you and me, I think you have perfect reason and the restrictions that Cornelius has seen fit to impose upon you are utterly ridiculous and without foundation."

"I suppose that remaining here keeps me safe from the public, but it does get far too lonely at times." She sighed, staring down into her lap. "Besides," she looked him now straight in they eye as she spoke, "Lucius is no danger; I do not think he has been for some time."

"Indeed I do see that and, on looking back over events, I think you will find that major Death Eater activity coincides quite frequently with times he was occupied with you." He gave her a small wink.

"But there was nothing in the papers," she raised a quizzical eyebrow, "when I came back I always checked the papers and there was never anything in."

"Oh Kathryn," Dumbledore sounded quite shocked; "surely you haven't forgotten that the Ministry hushed up half of the atrocities committed by Voldemort and his followers."

"Oh, of course."

"Some might not have been discussed in front of you, your brother and your friends because they were perhaps too terrible even for your ears. Then again, you in particular do have a very intimate knowledge of the scope of their cruelty."

"And my foster parents were the victim of one such attack." She added, remembering that horrible day. Although not even a year had gone by, it felt like an awfully long time ago, considering all that had happened since. "And he even told me it was her. He freely admitted that it was Bellatrix Lestrange. I did not need to ask."

"Am I correct in my assumption that you have no desire to hold him criminally responsible for what he did to you two years ago?"

"Yes."

"Then, technically, your testimony is null and void in that it could be deemed involuntary. All that your testimony should have bearing on is his actions as a Death Eater. Of course, Cornelius is twisting its relevancy by making it about explaining what happened."

"He is determined to see me punished."

"He is ignoring most conventions and is going for the Barty Crouch approach; fast trials and severe, if sometimes ill advised, verdicts."

"Wonderful." A dry voice spoke from the doorway. "What excellent news for me." Kathryn could not fail to crack a smile as Lucius walked into the room.

"Good morning Lucius." Dumbledore greeted him with a smile.

"And to you Dumbledore." Lucius offered his hand which, much to Kathryn's surprise, Dumbledore took. "I hope you are not too angered to find me here as opposed to Azkaban."

"Not at all. At this point I feel that your presence in Azkaban would be a waste of resources."

"Thank you. Although I can assure you that there are few who will share your opinion beyond those in this room."

"Well, now that you are here, I can get to my business which relates to the pair of you."

"Go ahead." Lucius took a seat next to Kathryn, giving her a light peck on the cheek as he did so.

"I have decided to offer you the opportunity of being placed under the protection of the Fidelius charm." He explained. "Firstly to ensure your safety, particularly that of Miss Potter, from the general public and those unknown supporters of Voldemort who we have not apprehended. There are still those who will attempt to finish what their Lord did not, whilst also purging a traitor." He nodded in Lucius' direction.

"Oh that has been made very clear to me." He nodded darkly. "I hear them shouting and I do not think it is just due to the Dementors."

"Indeed," Dumbledore nodded in agreement, "and whilst the Ministry has not yet acknowledged it, you are greatly responsible for the defeat of Voldemort. What if he had sent Bellatrix Lestrange to check?"

"I have only said this to two people," Lucius continued cautiously, "but I couldn't tell the truth. I couldn't bring myself to do it."

"I understand," Dumbledore nodded, "and think all the better of you because of it."

"Again, there are few who share the sentiment." Kathryn sighed. "I thank you for your offer, Professor, but I have to say no."

"Might I ask why?"

"My parents had need to hide, I do not. As much as I would love to, it would be seen as an affirmation of my guilt." She explained. "And I do not wish to spend the foreseeable future in nothing but a grand prison. I want the free life that I have never been able to enjoy."

"Certainly."

"Thank you."

"The option is still there should you ever have need of it."

"I will not forget."

"And now, if you will excuse me, I must take my leave." He gave them a warm smile. "It is ironic how one finds oneself with even more to do in peace time."

"Yes, although some of us have ended up in rather unexpected situations." She replied wryly.

"Indeed." He nodded solemnly. "Well, good day Miss Potter, Mr Malfoy." With a final nod and smile, he disappeared out the door.

"Was I right to refuse?" she asked quietly as she leant against his shoulder.

"I think so." He nodded thoughtfully. "Although, depending on how things turn out, the offer must not be forgotten."

"Well, we have yet to get there." She gave him a smile, lacing her fingers with his. "And if I have my way, it won't."

"That will not be easy to achieve."

"I don't do easy." She replied coolly. "I'm not sure if anything I've ever done has been easy."

"I suppose that's a comfort." He teased her; pulling a disbelieving face. "Albeit a very small one." She responded to this remark with a slap on the shoulder.

"Oh you're lucky I don't intend on leaving." She chided him.

"Indeed I am." This time his voice was sincere. "So what time might we expect people for lunch, as I assume they will still be arriving?"

"Any time after twelve." She shrugged, standing up and giving her arms a little stretch. "So I'm going to jump in the shower before they get here. And it's entirely up to you if you follow or not." With a final smile, she drifted out the door and back up the grand staircase. He dutifully followed and watched her as she walked. She took the stairs slowly, a wistful expression on her face, running her hand up the polished rail as she went. Her shrug was hanging loosely off her shoulder; revealing the long, elegant curve of her neck. She spied him watching.

"What are you looking at?" she asked, looking down upon him with a tempting smile.

"Something I never knew I had." Smiling and shaking her head, she continued on until she was out of sight.

As much as he knew it would be most satisfying to follow, he diverted his attention to the kitchens and the preparations for lunch. He imagined that there would be a rather large party, and instructed the House Elves to prepare for such an event. The menu they proposed was sufficiently lavish, yet understated and summery at the same time. After telling them where they were to eat, he descended to the wine cellar to find something to go with the lunch. He wasn't sure if Champagne would be seen as too much, but he selected several bottles anyway; he was not going to be thought a poor host.

Returning upstairs he found her lounging against the pillows of their bed, wrapped in a dressing gown the colour of twilight, and reading a book.

"I was most disappointed that you didn't follow." She said in a mock petulant tone, looking at him over the top of her glasses.

"Well," he sat down next to her and stroked a hand down her leg, "I did think that lunch needed seeing too. And besides, you're still here." He gave her a mischievous smile.

"And we've got time," she smirked back, "people aren't going to be here for at least another hour." His hand pulled at the belt that held the robe closed, exposing her fair, flawless skin to his eager eyes.

"But of course," his hand moved abruptly away, "if you'd rather read." She scowled at him, realising that he was doing to her exactly what she had done the night before, and quickly set her book aside.

"I don't think so." Reaching out and grabbing a fistful of his shirt, she pulled him back down to kiss her. Gladly, he tumbled down beside her, kissing her tenderly as she expertly unbuttoned his shirt.


	76. Chapter 76

A/N - Just a short chapter this time, but I hope you enjoy it anyway!!! I get my degree results on Wednesday, scary stuff. Anyway, in this chapter, she and Lucius have a serious chat.

Please read, enjoy and leave me a happy shiny review!!!

* * *

A little over an hour later, she descended the stairs to find quite the party waiting for her in the Entrance Hall. As well as Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny, she found Mr and Mrs Weasley, Fred and George, Lupin, Tonks, Sirius, Bill, Fleur and Snape. They all watched her as she walked down, dressed in a pair of wide legged trousers of pale taupe linen. She had paired these with black pumps and a black vest top made entirely of layered chiffon, through which her underwear was clearly visible. Her hair hung loose save for a portion on the right side of her head which was twisted into a loose French plait to keep it out of her eyes. A heavy onyx pendant with diamond accents hung around her neck and a Celtic inspired silver cuff, with a bead of onyx at either end, encircled her right wrist.

Harry had duly noted that Lucius was not present, and they had all decided it best that his very presence was not revealed to the likes of Sirius and the Weasleys until she decided. He didn't think Sirius would be best pleased at the arrangement, despite the fact that she was happy. Their Godfather hadn't been in a room with him since she had been found back in June. Considering how he had reacted during the week, Sirius shouldn't be going within a metre of the man. That would, however, be for Kathryn to decide.

"As you can see I am quite recovered!" she told them with a laugh as she hugged Harry and Sirius.

"You certainly look a lot better dear." Mrs Weasley smiled, giving her a crushing hug.

"Well, these things happen." She shrugged. "I'm glad you all decided to come though, it's nice to have the company."

"Well, we don't mind coming over," Ginny shook her head, "it's nice to get away from London. At home we have people camped outside the house so we've been staying at Grimmauld Place. I miss the outdoors."

"It's ridiculous that you can't even live normally because of this. I'm so sorry." She shook her head in disbelief, the strain showing in her eyes for just a moment. "But we're eating in the gardens so I hope that is a suitable compromise, it is too nice a day to stay inside."

"Last I heard there was still some summer left to enjoy." Fred commented.

"Really?" Kathryn replied in mock astonishment.

"We've heard rumours!" George chortled.

"Well, I suppose it's some kind of irony that the first summer I am truly free is one where I am a virtual prisoner. Not to say that you haven't been affected of course."

"Well, hopefully once everything settles down we'll be able to get back to something that resembles normal life." Harry shrugged. "Failing that I'm sure we'll be able to sort out some way of keeping people away."

"Well, maybe next summer will be better."

"Maybe."

"Maybe not." Her tone was ominous, reminding her brother that her future was in no way certain. "Anyway, let's head outside." She motioned towards the nearest door. As they all began to move, a different voice sounded in her ear.

"I take it he is upstairs." It was Snape, speaking so quietly that only she could hear. She only nodded in reply. Without a word to anyone else, he walked past her up the sweeping staircase and out of sight.

She showed them through the house and out onto the lawns. A smart set of wooden tables and chairs, with crisp cream linens and cushions, were standing ready near the spectacularly flowering borders. The view of the house was magnificent and, just for a fleeting moment; she saw a blond head in the window of his rooms.

"I'll be back in a moment." She told them vaguely, walking back across the lawn without any particular purpose and disappearing into the house.

She found Lucius and Snape looking out of the windows onto the party that was on the lawn.

"So are you going to come down?" she asked, raising a questioning eyebrow.

"Eventually." He shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm not entirely sure that my presence will be welcome." Sensing that this was not his conversation, Snape swiftly excused himself.

"To be honest," she replied, opening the doors onto the balcony, "you probably won't be welcome." She stepped out into the sunshine and looked out over the gardens. "I'd go out on a limb and say that most of the people sitting at that table would gladly see you locked away for the remainder of your life."

"So not the best people to share a meal with."

"But, those people also want to see me happy, and they shall just have to accept you whether they like it or not."

"Really?" he stood close behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"Yes." She turned her head and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Just like everyone else will."

"Forgive me if I call that wishful thinking." She raised her eyebrows incredulously, turning around and levering herself onto the edge of the balustrade so she could look him in the eye.

"It's called hope." She looked out on the gardens again. "It's why I'm still here. It's why I can, even after those dark days I spent here, forgive you." Any reply he had been planning was forgotten thanks to her words. Though she had said it somewhat offhand in the courtroom the other day, she had never openly spoken of such a thing with him. For one, he could not believe that she could so readily forgive all the terrible things he did.

"I think it's a little early to be talking about forgiveness, don't you?"

"Why?"

"You cannot possibly be able to forgive me so readily."

"Surely that is for me to decide."

"I just don't understand how you can abide to be so near to me, after all that I did." His expression was tortured, this thought apparently having plagued him for some time.

"I am here because I see the man that you are, not the monster people believe you to be."

"That doesn't change what I did."

"But I know that you regret it and that's all I need to know." She explained, taking his hands in hers and looking him resolutely in the eye. "We know what happened,-"

"Along with the entire readership of the Daily Prophet." He reminded her in a bitter tone.

"But only we truly know what went on," she stressed, "everyone else has the watered down version that Skeeter gave them."

"If anything her comments have made it seem worse."

"It was worse," her voice cracked and her eyes dropped for a moment, "you must have noticed that I left some parts out, from those first days." He nodded solemnly. "It's not that I wanted to lie, it's just that I couldn't face the memories." Without reply, he held her close to his chest as tears escaped her eyes.

"People keep on telling me that I should hate you, that I shouldn't be able to stand the sight of you, but I cannot bring myself to do it. I cannot make myself hate you."

"I would not question you if you did."

"But I don't," she smiled again, wiping the tears off her cheeks, "that is why I hope. Hope is what gives us strength, what keeps us going; what gives me the courage to go on fighting a battle I am likely to lose."

They stayed like that for several more minutes, each taking pleasure in the mere presence of the other. There was no need for words and they did not care that their guests in the garden might catch a glimpse. The only sound was the rustle of the wind through the trees and the bird song caught on the breeze.

* * *

"Look." Down in the gardens, Hermione whispered in Harry's ear and inclined her head towards the house. Both Harry and Ron looked up at the two figures on the balcony. "If all else could be forgotten, all people would see would be romance."

"Yeah." Harry sighed. "I suppose that's what we'll have to get used to, you know, that it does exist despite everything." He inclined his head at them.

"Think of the magazines and newspapers a picture like that would sell." Hermione theorised. "I mean, it's the story everyone wants to know."

"It's being told now." Ron reminded her.

"I know, but it is being told in a cold way, analytical even." Hermione explained. "Her feelings have barely been broached, and there is much more here than she shows."

* * *

Up on the balcony, the sound of conversation drifted to their ears from the gardens below.

"Come on." She said, finally breaking the silence. "I think we've got guests waiting." Taking her delicate hand in his, they meandered through the grand house; both of them immeasurably glad that they no longer had to hide. Many of the portraits looked down in scorn or turned their backs on them but Kathryn did spot, however, the face of Abraxas Malfoy cracking the tiniest of smiles.


	77. Chapter 77

A/N - A slightly longer chapter than last time, but I'm afriad that I'm actually rather busy writing my part of a 30,000 word paper that has to be in by Monday...bad times...so I don't have the time I thought I would to write. Once that is done, however, i should be able to spend more time with my fingers tapping away on the keyboard!!

Anyway, in this chapter we seee a rather illuminating lunch in the Manor gardens...quite an interesting afternoon for all involved...although it would appear that there are those with lingering doubts...

As always, read, enjoy and leave me a nice review to brighten up my day!!

* * *

As they stood in the sunshine, Sirius looked towards the house and saw two figures walking out towards them. Seeing one of them warmed his heart. The sight of the other walking casually, one hand in his pocket and very much at ease in his domain, drove a knife through that heart. What pained him more was that he was walking next to his beloved Goddaughter.

"What is he doing here?" he growled fiercely, his hand automatically reaching for his wand.

"He's here because she fought for him to be here." Harry warned, grabbing Sirius' arm before he made an aggressive move.

"I don't care," he hissed, "I cannot bear the sight of him."

"She is happy!" Harry implored. "Can't you see it?"

"I care not. No Goddaughter of mine should be associating with him, no matter how she feels."

"It might be prudent," Lupin interjected calmly, "to give her the benefit of the doubt." He placed a cautioning hand on Sirius' shoulder.

"You should." Harry agreed. "Just sit with him, listen to him, and then make your decision."

"There is nothing he can say that will ever change the way I see him."

"Sirius," Harry implored, "Hermione has sat with him and even she finds him far from what she expected. Of all of us, she is the one with most cause to hate the man, yet he has been welcoming, friendly even. It is too early to say that he has changed, but for Kathryn's sake we need to give him a chance."

"And what if I cannot?"

"Then she will never forgive us, and she will never come back." Sirius merely nodded in reply, relaxing his stance and pushing his wand back into his pocket.

Harry turned his eyes, along with the rest of them, to the pair that were now approaching. He could not deny that the Lucius Malfoy he saw before him was nothing like the one he had ever encountered before. He looked at ease, happy even. There was no trace of the contempt, the arrogance which he had normally displayed in the past. Her right hand was held lightly in his left, not in a possessive way, but just like he would hold Ginny's hand. Every time he glanced at her, he appeared mystified.

She too looked content, and Harry knew her to be so. Hermione was right in her assessment. They had hoped, in the early days at least, that this would turn out to be a mere infatuation, something of which she would soon tire once the excitement and the risk wore off. What they saw each day only further served to destroy their optimism. Her smile was always genuine and, despite all that had gone on and all that she had hidden, Harry could not help but be happy that his sister had found someone who cared for her so much.

"Sorry to abandon you." She smiled. "I hope you're hungry!"

"You really shouldn't have gone to all this trouble dear." Mrs Weasley fretted instantly, looking at the impeccably set table with its pristine china, sparking glasses and lines of gleaming silver cutlery.

"It's no problem." Kathryn shrugged as they made their way to the table. "I like the company." Mrs. Weasley merely smiled in reply, privately reminding herself that Kathryn had a phalanx of House Elves at her disposal that could be tasked to the organisation of such an immaculate dinner table.

She and Lucius both waited until everyone else was seated before they took their places. Kathryn noted that Sirius had placed himself on Lucius' right and she hoped that he would at least be civil.

"Please say Sirius is going to be polite." She whispered to Harry as she sat down.

"I talked to him and, as far as I could get him to promise, I think he is going to give him a chance." Harry explained.

"Well, at least Severus is there in case it gets ugly." She said with a cautious smile as their first course arrived. Harry passed no comment that she was now on first name terms with their former Potions professor.

"So," Harry began as she tucked into the bruschetta and roasted Mediterranean vegetables that had been served as the first course, "do you have any idea how things are going to progress on Monday?"

"No idea." She took a sip of wine. "I assume that Fudge is going to call on other people in order to throw my character into further disrepute."

"Surely he shouldn't be trying to steer the trial towards a guilty verdict?" Ginny asked. "That would totally negate the point of a trial in the first place."

"Indeed, yet I believe that the public have already made their judgement. The arrival of the Wizengamot at that same verdict will not be met with opposition, no matter how that decision is reached."

"Members of the Wizengamot are not bound to follow Fudge's lead; they are at liberty to make their own decisions." Mr Weasley offered from the middle of the table.

"If I could be permitted to disagree, Arthur, if indeed I may address you as such." Lucius entered the conversation for the first time, treading very carefully when addressing a man with whom he had once descended to fisticuffs in Flourish and Blott's.

"Be my guest." Mr Weasley nodded, apparently deciding to let bygones be bygones. Indeed, he looked stunned at being spoken to in such a polite fashion by the blond wizard.

"The other members of the Wizengamot are not as free as you think. True, they hold their own opinions, but voting the opposite way to our dear Minister," his voice was dripping with malice as he referred to Fudge, "in this matter could have severe ramifications. We all know Fudge is paranoid and I wouldn't put it past him to see a vote in my favour as a general support for Death Eaters. In the current climate, the mere suspicion of Fudge could land you in Azkaban."

"He could never get away with locking people up without proof." Hermione argued. "The public wouldn't allow it."

"The Dark Lord had infiltrated the Ministry in many ways." Lucius pointed out.

"You being one of them." Sirius remarked glibly.

"Touché." Lucius conceded. "As far as I am aware, they have not all been discovered. They did not carry the Dark Mark so anyone could be accused."

"But surely the effects of the Imperius curse would be evident?" Hermione pointed out.

"What makes you think they were all under the influence of dark curses?" he countered, eliciting a nod of agreement from several people.

"Besides, Dumbledore visited us this morning and we spoke about many things, one of those being Fudge's sudden resemblance to Barty Crouch." Kathryn informed them. "He wants quick trials with severe verdicts. The public are desperate to see someone punished."

"How wonderful that it is towards my Goddaughter that they direct their anger." Sirius' voice was, again, dripping with hatred for the man sat to his right. Lucius did not rise to the challenge, instead gazing intently at Kathryn and raising an eyebrow.

"They wish to punish me for a choice I made." Her voice was calm yet stern. "I understood the ramifications of my decision and I accept the present circumstances. I am not ashamed of what has happened, nor do I intend to have shame and disgrace forced upon me."

"An admirable attitude." Lupin commented.

"Thank you," Kathryn gave him a warm smile, "however I think your belief is not shared by many." Her smile faded as she finished, their empty plates being removed and replaced with the main course of char grilled swordfish.

"I must say," Mrs Weasley said after a few moments of silence, "that you do indeed lay a fine table for your guests."

"My thanks, madam," Lucius smiled graciously, "but it is as fine a table as I'm sure you would provide." Mrs Weasley looked momentarily shocked at receiving such a compliment.

"I'm not sure that I could boast to such fine fare as this." Molly blushed fiercely.

"Nonsense." He waved aside such an idea. "I have been told on more then one occasion of your prodigious skill in the kitchen." Mrs. Weasley's blush deepened still.

"Mrs. Weasley's kitchen was always the first port of call after a week or two of forced starvation by our Aunt and Uncle." Harry added, remembering all too well the horrendous food Aunt Petunia had forced upon him. When they were still unable to use magic out of school, the weeks they spent in Little Whinging had been painful at best.

"Speaking of which," Kathryn interjected, "have you been in touch with them at all?"

"No, I don't know what to do really."

"Uncle Vernon probably doesn't care if we're alive or dead."

"Surely they will be glad to see you alive?" Mr. Weasley suggested. He had always been ready to believe that the Dursleys did have some feelings for their niece and nephew.

"Not likely," Kathryn scoffed, "Uncle Vernon would be disappointed that we weren't at least horrifically injured."

"What about your Aunt?" Snape asked curiously.

"I suppose she might actually care more." Kathryn shrugged, twirling her fork in her hand. "She never really said anything, but I think she understood."

"Understood?" Lucius raised an eyebrow at her, naturally dubious after what he had heard about her relatives. "How could they ever understand?"

"Just because they're Muggles doesn't mean that they could not comprehend the danger." Sirius immediately shot in, eager to capitalise on this apparent jibe against Muggles and Muggle-borns.

"Sirius!" Kathryn glared at her Godfather.

"What?" Sirius exclaimed, throwing up his arms. "I said that I would listen to him and I believe I've heard enough."

"Actually," Lucius interrupted calmly, "if I had been permitted to finish, I only said that because I have heard first hand how poorly your godchildren were treated by their Muggle relatives." Sirius did not reply, instead just glaring at Lucius, apparently disappointed with his lack of moral victory.

"When I said that she might understand, it's because she heard of Voldemort from our mother." Kathryn explained, beginning where the conversation had left off. "She spoke of him often when she was home from school, and then she heard more when our mother and father were fighting. No matter what she thought of our world, she knew that the man who killed her sister was now after her sister's children."

"Maybe we should pop by and say hello?" Harry shrugged as the house elves appeared to remove their empty plates.

"And give Uncle Vernon his heart attack?" Kathryn pulled a cautious face.

"Zey are curious, your Aunt and Oncle." Fleur commented. "Not wishing to care for children that are their family."

"Curious is one word." Sirius pitched in, apparently willing to speak again. "Personally I favour downright mad."

"I've never met them and I think they sound scary." Bill commented between mouthfuls of fish. "Stuff of wizarding nightmares really."

"I suppose you could turn it into a fairy tale." Ron suggested with a laugh. "Beware little children, if you're naughty the Dursleys will come and take you away!" several people at the table laughed at this remark.

"Well, they haven't ever behaved in any way that had endeared me to them." Harry shrugged. "It's probably a good thing Dumbledore separated us though. I'm no sure if two would have fit in the cupboard."

"It would have been a bit of a squash!" Kathryn laughed. Lucius, however, looked stunned.

"What do you mean by cupboard?" he asked curiously.

"My Aunt and Uncle made me live in the cupboard under the stairs," Harry explained patiently, "at least, until I got my Hogwarts letter."

"You lived in a cupboard?"

"I'd say I was more kept in a cupboard," Harry shrugged as their desserts were set in front of them, "it's not like I had any kind of life until I came to Hogwarts."

"I know that I shouldn't be one to pass judgement, considering the things I stand accused of, but that is actually barbaric." Much to Kathryn's relief, no one decided to pass comment on that fact.

Indeed, dessert passed without incident, the lemon posset apparently enough to reduce everyone to silence. In this quiet, she took the time to notice that Lucius did not once cast en eye in Fleur's direction, despite all the alluring capability of her Veela heritage. The only serious looks he gave to anyone were directed right to the opposite end of the table, right at her. Her heart soared, but she was careful not to look too pleased with herself.

"You know," George drawled, leaning back in his chair once he was finished, "the House Elves of Hogwarts always held a special place in my heart for providing the best food after Mum's kitchen. After that I might have to demote them to second place."

"Hear hear!" Fred agreed readily with his twin.

"I will pass on your compliments." Lucius nodded graciously.

"I think they're happy to have the mouths to feed." Kathryn added with a smile. "Usually it's just me and the occasional guest. For the moment I feel their talents are wasted."

"They do not feel so." Lucius assured her.

"How can you possibly know how they feel?" Hermione asked quite plainly, fixing him with a piercing stare. She remembered all too well his treatment of Dobby in second year, and she had seen him kick two of them when Fudge had seen fit to call off the Dementors. "I have seen how you treat them and it is cruel."

"You have only seen me treating them so when I have been extremely angry." He explained carefully. "On the occasion to which you refer, cruel though my actions may have been, I did not think it prudent to resort to fisticuffs with Fudge when there were two Aurors outside. Had I been in possession of a wand, I assure, what you saw would have been very different."

"Oh."

"I will not deny that I have treated my House Elves with cruelty, it is how I was brought up to behave." Again, he astonished the table with his frankness. "Over these past couple of years, however, I have seen how they respond when treated with respect and gratitude."

It was an unspoken agreement around the table that this was due to Kathryn's presence. Nothing was said and they allowed Lucius to continue with his explanation.

"I cannot deny that I was wrong. All of my House Elves live in comfort and are treated kindly. They serve their Master, and Mistress," he inclined his head ever so slightly towards Kathryn, "willingly and without fear."

"Oh, well, that's very good." Hermione, ever the staunch defender of House Elves rights, was quite surprised by such a declaration.

"Of course, certain appearances had to be maintained, but other than that I have sought to change the behaviours for which I was so criticised."

"So where do you stand on Hermione's presence at your table?" Sirius jumped on that declaration, seeking to tests its merit.

"Is there any answer that I could give with which you would not find fault?" Lucius asked in return.

"I don't think there is." Without another word, Sirius stood and headed back towards the house. At the opposite end of the table Kathryn sighed and watched as her Godfather walked away, her chin resting on her palm and her eyes troubled.

"Just out of curiosity," Lupin spoke calmly, "how would you answer that question?"

"I am glad that she can bring herself to sit at the same table." Lucius finally said after several moments of deliberation. "She is most welcome here, as are you all."

"See," Kathryn said quietly, getting to her feet, "I would not fight so hard if it was not worth it. Excuse me." With that, she left the table and set off behind Sirius.


	78. Chapter 78

A/N - My apologies for being away so long. You'd have thought with finishing university and graduating would have given me so much free time, but between work and planning for my conference in Germany I've been knackered!!! I know that chapter is short...and you may have to wait until August before the next update...but I'm having a moment of indecision over what should happen next. Hopefully those ideas will work themselves out in sue course!!!

Anyway, enough with my ramblings. Enjoy the continuation of Sirius' lunchtime rant!!

As always, please read, enjoy and leave me a review to help me write faster!!!

* * *

She caught up with her Godfather just as he entered the drawing room that opened out onto the back veranda of the house.

"What's wrong?" she asked gently, being careful not to raise her voice. He kept on walking, as if pretending not to hear. "Sirius please." Maybe it was the hint of pleading in his voice, but he stopped abruptly, his hands balling into fists at his sides.

"I think you already know the answer to that one." He spat angrily, wheeling around to face her.

"I don't." Her voice remained level. "Tell me, please."

"I cannot describe how much it offends me to see you with him," he explained, his voice very calm but his eyes still blazing with anger, "for you to even be here."

"It's just a house."

"You know damn well it's not just a house."

"It's only stone and mortar, Sirius, would you think any different of me if I was still living at Grimmauld Place?"

"At least you would be where you belong." He reasoned, looking at her with eyes imploring her to leave.

"I don't know where I belong anymore." She sighed.

"You don't belong here!" Sirius gesticulated wildly at the house and its surroundings. "This house is not you!"

"What's that supposed to mean? It's all anyone seems to say about me anymore. Since when have I belonged anywhere?" she demanded of her Godfather.

"You belong with us!"

"Not for the first fourteen years of my life." She reminded him coldly. "Then I belonged in France, only I didn't. I knew that I had a brother that I wasn't allowed to talk about, that I had a name I wasn't allowed to mention."

"That was all for your safety. Dumbledore told you, one child is easier to hide than two; he had to split you up."

"That doesn't matter! I had to come here and meet a brother who had no clue about my existence and he just had to accept me, as did his friends. I felt like a bloody intruder for the first few weeks!"

"You wouldn't think it now."

"But still, I've only been here for five years!" she groaned, running her hands through her hair in despair. "All of which I've spent fighting for my life. At this point, I don't think anyone is qualified to tell me where I belong, I don't even know!"

"It doesn't matter whether people are qualified or not, this is all about image." Sirius drawled. "It's what this house represents." He explained, speaking to her as if she were a child. "It stands for all you are not."

"So I am not refined, elegant or beautiful." She replied dryly. "Nor am I powerful or wealthy. That's funny, because that's always what they've said about me."

"You know fine well it has nothing to do with that!" Sirius snapped. "It is all to do with the fact that you associate yourself with a place renowned for its connection to Voldemort and the Death Eaters."

"You're not exactly one to talk, what about Grimmauld Place?" she retorted, angry at being spoken to in such a way. "Last time I checked you, and Harry, live there and yet you do not believe in your family motto. The headquarters of the Order is in the home of one of Voldemort's most loyal families."

"That was a long time ago."

"Long time ago or not, it shows that things can change." She thought that such an example was at least a valid point.

"The only thing that changed was the fact that I am the only one left." Sirius corrected her harshly. "And I never believed in that rot from the start. But this world," he gestured again at the house, "this world is incapable of change and you do not belong in it."

"Why not?"

"You are the new, so is your brother. You represent the changes our world so desperately needs. You cannot claim to stand for such change in public and then return to this world of power and excess in private."

"I didn't think my private life was a public issue."

"You surrendered that right the moment you sought him out!" he corrected her harshly, his voice taking on an angry tone that he had never before used towards her.

"That does not mean that I am obliged to let them in."

"That means nothing to the press you stupid girl. They will always want to know everything; they will not be content with just your public face. They will question why we call for reform when you, one of our strongest forces, return home to your half of Wiltshire at the end of the day."

"I will live where I choose. I will not be forced into moving just because the delicate constitution of the public cannot make the distinction between me and the house."

"They will question why, if you fought for it so hard, you are not willing to let go of the old ways."

"Sirius, I cannot cling to the old ways! I've never had anything to do with them."

"This is part of the old ways!" he cried. "All this house represents is money and power by privilege rather than by merit. Our fight will lose every shred of its credence because you selfishly choose to have him warming your bed!" he was yelling at her now, his finger pointing accusingly over to where Lucius was sat.

"I would still have the money, you know, even if I didn't live here." She pointed out. "I would still own all of this. I cannot lose the association just like that." She snapped her fingers for effect.

"You make us all look like fools." He spat, glaring at her with an anger she had never experienced before. "Swanning around as if you haven't done anything wrong."

"I haven't!" she protested, upset to find that this was his real opinion after all his words of support. "I have done nothing for which I deserve to stand trial; my transgressions were personal, not political."

"Personal they may have been, but what you did was far worse a betrayal than selling our secrets would ever have been."

"Can't you just be thankful that he kept me only or himself?" she asked, tears welling in the corner of her eyes. "That he didn't share me with his friends? That I came back at all?"

"I'd rather he had never laid eyes upon you."

"Well it's a bit late for that."

"I would happily die in Azkaban if it meant the world was rid of a man like him."

"You will fail if you try." She responded coolly to the veiled threat.

"I just cannot describe how much I hate it."

"Hate what?"

"Everything!" he cried, flinging his arms up in the air to add emphasis. "The way he looks at you, the way he talks to you, the way he touches you. He does not deserve such an honour."

"He does." Her reply was quiet, timid almost. "More than you will ever know."

"He has no right to any part of you!" the anger in Sirius' voice rose again. "And you, you just let him keep you here like his prized little pet."

"I am not his pet." The anger emanating from her voice was more than a match for the anger of her Godfather. "When has it ever appeared like I am simply his pet?"

"A particularly vivid image of you curled up in his lap springs to mind."

"And you use this as the basis of your entire argument?" Kathryn shook her head in disbelief. "That was just a display for Fudge, it's not like I wanted to make him feel comfortable."

"It wasn't exactly a comforting spectacle for any of us either."

"Well, beyond that day I can think of no other time when he has treated me like a pet. I am his equal in every respect.

"I really do have a hard time believing that." Sirius spat, his face a mask of bitterness. "A leash is a leash no matter how many diamonds it has on it."

"You really don't believe it, do you?" she cocked her head to one side, her eyes sad and questioning. "You cannot even begin to comprehend why he risked his life."

"He had nothing more in mind than his own selfish desire to survive."

"He did it for me." She heavily emphasised the word 'me', jabbing her finger at her heart. "Me, not anyone else!" Sirius merely shrugged in reply.

"Be that as it may, sooner or later you will have to choose between all that you stand for or this foolish dalliance."

"So you want me to choose?" she asked calmly, not wanting him to shout again. "Him or my cause, is that right?"

"Yes."

"Then I shall choose what is best." She decided after several moments of silence.

"Good."

"Best for me, of course."

"What?"

"I choose my happiness," she explained, "I choose him."

"How can you choose him after all he has done?" Sirius raised his voice yet again.

"Because I am done with fighting!" she yelled back. "I have spent my life struggling for my freedom, for a chance to live a life that is not decided on the whim some megalomaniac with a wand!"

"But you are free!"

"You telling me that my decisions are wrong is not freedom!" she laughed at the absurdity of it all.

"Someone has to tell you."

"Freedom means that I can decide the things I want, the things I believe in, and I believe in him." She too pointed a finger at Lucius.

"Then you will lose everything."

"I will not," she retorted defiantly, "I will have this life and I will help bring change. The Ministry cannot afford to ignore me because, whatever you may think, my influence is too great. Then I will return to this life of power and excess at the end of the day and to hell with what anybody else thinks."

"Then I do not know you. How can I claim to understand you if he is so valuable in your eyes?"

"I do not ask you to understand." Her words were sombre and measured, disguising how much she hated that Sirius felt this way. With that, she turned on her heel and walked back out to the rest of the party, leaving Sirius to go and find a fireplace and Floo home.


	79. Chapter 79

A/N - Hello all, apologies for the prolonged absence, but I don;t feel like I've had a minute to myself since I got back from Germany!!! Although this is only a short chapter, I hope you will forgive me once I get Chapter 80 posted as I have some excellent ideas for that one and hopefully will be able to get those onto pages asap!!! For now, enjoy the fall-out from Kathryn and Sirius' arguement!!

Enjoy, and please leave me a nice review!!!

* * *

"Do I even dare ask what that was about?" Harry said tentatively as she slumped back down in her seat.

"Well, let's just say he was truthful," she replied quietly, running her finger absentmindedly around the rim of her glass, "if a bit blinkered in his assessment of things."

"Blinkered?" Tonks asked curiously, gazing up the table at her. "I thought he was ok with all of this, well, as ok as he can be?"

"Apparently not." She stared darkly at her glass.

"He might have spoken a bit rashly," Lupin consoled her, "you know he can be like that."

"No, this was beyond rash," she shook her head, "he meant what he said."

"Where's he gone?"

"Home. Apparently he could suffer such company no longer."

"It's our fault." Hermione sighed. "We should have told him."

"It's not your fault," Kathryn shook her head.

"But if we'd told him before we arrived, he would have at least been prepared."

"This would have happened anyway, Hermione, it really has little bearing on Lucius' presence." She waved away Hermione's worry. "At least I can gauge what he'll say in front of the Wizengamot, that is, if they wish to hear his testimony."

"I don't know why they'd want to hear from any of us." Ron shrugged. "I mean, it's not like we knew what was going on."

"They'll probably want to know what we saw, and what we suspected." Hermione guessed.

"They'll want me too." Snape finally spoke up. "I'm the perfect character witness."

"Why?" Ron asked in a disinterested tone.

"Because I know a great many secrets." Lucius could not deny that Severus was correct.

"And don't forget the other star of the show." Kathryn made a grand sweeping gesture with her hand towards Lucius. "After all, they've heard all about what happened; now they'll want to know why."

"And that is something only I can tell." Lucius sighed, gazing at Kathryn with apologetic eyes. "Much as I would never like to speak of it again."

"But it might help," Tonks suggested with a tentative smile, "I mean, wanting to know why goes beyond simply wanting to know what went on here. They will want to know why you lied to keep them alive, that's the important bit."

"Yes, I suppose that is somewhat advantageous. Thank you." Lucius gave her a genuinely thankful smile at this comment of support from a young woman who was, technically, his niece.

"Well, that all depends on what Fudge wants them to know, doesn't it?" Kathryn's voice was laced with distrust for the Wizengamot.

"You shouldn't be so cynical." Mr. Weasley advised her. "The pressure you applied brought the trial forwards. It was the worst kept secret in the Ministry that Fudge wanted to delay things for as long as possible."

"I'm sorry," she sighed, "it's just this thing with Sirius, it's put me all off kilter."

"He'll come round eventually." Lupin consoled her with a kind smile. "He's never been one to take an insult lightly."

"It's not an insult!" she retorted angrily.

"No, but he sees it as one," Lupin explained. "All his life, he has been shunned by his family because he didn't agree with their ideas. Ever since he was sorted into Gryffindor he has been the family pariah. His mother made no secret of her preference for her younger son and even now he cannot escape her."

"What does that have to do with this being seen as an insult?"

"Well, when he moved in at your Grandparents', with your Dad, he saw a different world. It was a pureblood family to whom blood did not matter. Seeing you here, comfortably ensconced in this stronghold of pureblood society, is like a knife through his heart after all he has tried to teach you."

"Well, he's not going to listen to me if I try to explain." She sighed. "But I cannot force understanding upon him."

"It may be a case of just waiting." Lupin shrugged. "I think today has just shocked him."

"Yeah," Harry nodded in agreement, "I mean; he didn't expect to find him here. And when he saw you walking over he was just about ready to start hexing left, right and centre."

"Oh dear." She sighed and finished the last of her wine. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea."

"Nonsense dear," Mrs. Weasley cut in sharply, "we've had a lovely time."

"Really?"

"Oh yes," Kathryn was shocked that Mrs. Weasley considered the afternoon to be so enjoyable, "it is lovely to be able to relax and just enjoy a meal in the company of friends." Had she not been sitting down, Kathryn was sure that final comment would have knocked her off her feet. Of everyone, Mrs. Weasley was the person she least expected to be so accepting, so open minded. Across the table, she saw Lucius' eyes widen with similar shock.

"You'd probably do well not to repeat such a statement beyond this table." Kathryn sighed. "Much as I appreciate it, I do not wish to have you receiving hate mail simply for being open-minded."

"Well, regardless of what they say in the Prophet, you are still the same person." Kathryn could find no reply to such kind words; instead her cheeks went a deep pink as she beamed at Mrs. Weasley.

Conversation continued on from then, about Quidditch, career plans and the upcoming school year, to which Ginny had opted to return to finish her education. The abrupt departure of Sirius, however, hung over their party like a thundercloud in the azure sky. Sensing that his sister might appreciate some time alone with Lucius, Harry bade her goodbye just before three in the afternoon. They all followed suit, promising to see her on Monday and to do their best to try and alleviate the situation with Sirius.


	80. Chapter 80

A/N - And Chapter 80 is finally here!!! Sorry about the long wait, but at least this time there's a nice long chapter for you to sink your teeth into!!!

As always, read, enjoy and leave me a lovely review!!

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As the house elves appeared to clear up the remnants of their meal, she and Lucius meandered through the gardens, down the path hidden between the trees. They wandered for a while in the dappled afternoon shade, simply enjoying each others company, before settling themselves on a grassy slope that bordered the lake.

"So," he asked as she rested against his shoulder, "what do you want to do tonight?"

"I wasn't aware we had that many options." She replied with a small laugh, sitting up to face him. "Not that I mind spending a nice evening by the fire, especially if it's with you."

"Well, I was thinking more about going out." He told her with a mischievous smirk.

"I'm not sure people would be too happy seeing you strolling around Diagon Alley."

"I never said that we would be going there."

"Where then?"

"All I will say is that we would need to be in London by seven this evening." He smirked at her irritated scowl.

"If I don't know where I'm going, how am I supposed to know what to wear?"

"I can help with that."

"Oh you are so frustrating." She growled, hitting him playfully on the arm.

"You like it really."

"Well, yes, but it's really annoying that I can't do anything for you."

"I don't mind."

"But you give me all these magnificent things and take me to such breathtaking places," she explained, "and I give you not a button in return."

"I thought we'd gone over this already?"

"I know, but it still annoys me."

"Well what do you want me to do about it? Charge you rent?" he chuckled at the mere thought.

"No, I mean, I just don't like that people could think I am here only for the money. I have my own fortune, nothing to yours of course, but far beyond what most could imagine for someone my age."

"I know you're not here for the money, that's all that matters."

"Not to the Daily Prophet."

"Since when did we involve that rag in our lives?"

"True, but my point is that I wish I could give you something."

"You already have." He shook his head in disbelief at how much this issue troubled her.

"I know I have." She sighed, looking wistfully at the water below them. "I just wish it could be something more tangible." Leaning back into him, they stayed in silence for a good while longer; listening to the wind through the trees and the gentle lapping of the water at the lake's edge.

Returning to the house a little after four o'clock, her mind still full of their previous conversation, she was suddenly struck with an idea of how to give him something in return. Whilst Lucius took a shower, she hurried off to his study to find parchment and a quill. Scrawling a quick note, she tapped it three times with her wand and watched as it coiled and disappeared in a flash of orange flame. Ten minutes later, another scroll of parchment appeared in a flash of the same orange flame. Unrolling it, a familiar curling script lay before her eyes.

_Miss Potter_

_Please find enclosed that which you requested moments ago. I suppose that I can guess your reasons for such a request, but I would wish to counsel you on its usage. From what I have seen, I have no qualms about this knowledge being passed on. There are those, however, who would not wish such a person to be party to such information. Use it wisely. _

_Regards_

_Albus Dumbledore_

Contained within the first scroll was another, smaller one that contained only five lines of script. Five lines that, only a year ago, would have been worth a thousand times their weight in gold to any Death Eater. Incinerating Dumbledore's letter, she folded the other piece of parchment tightly and stuffed it in the back of her jeans. Leaving the desk as if no one had been in, she wandered back through the house to get changed; finding Lucius half dressed and poring through her wardrobe.

"I think you're looking in the wrong one." She hissed from the doorway, fighting a giggle.

"Very funny." He drawled. "I think this should do for tonight." He pulled out a dress and hung it on the wardrobe door.

"If you were wanting to be discrete I think that dress might be a mistake." She raised her eyebrows at his choice.

"Discretion will not matter where we are going."

"If you say so." She shrugged, disappearing through to the bathroom to have a quick shower.

"What about dinner?" she asked curiously once she was done in the bathroom. "Is that what this is?"

"We're not going for dinner."

"Well where are we going then?"

"You'll find out soon enough." He smirked, obviously enjoying her frustration.

"And are you really sure that is an appropriate outfit?" she nodded again to the dress that was hanging ready.

"Stop protesting and put it on!" he laughed, clearly enjoying her frustration. "I didn't buy it for it to lie unworn."

In her gut, she knew that she was probably going to be vastly overdressed for wherever they were going, but if it was going to make him smile then she didn't mind. He kept her frown in place as she slipped the dress over her head, allowing him to do up the zip on the side before turning her attention to her hair. Running a brush through the wavy tresses, she flicked it into a side parting so it fell slightly over the right side of her face. Once satisfied that it was alluring enough, she threaded a pair of chandelier earrings dripping with diamonds into her ears and slipped a matching diamond cuff around her wrist. The final touch was to slip her feet in to a pair of vertiginous heels. She resisted the temptation to gasp when she saw how she looked in the mirror, although the look on Lucius' face, reflected back at her, said it all.

"Alright then." She sighed, turning round and spraying on some perfume. "I'm ready for your little mystery evening." Taking the arm he offered, she allowed him to lead her down to where the car was waiting in front of the house; the driver holding the door open like always.

She gave up on questioning him half way through the journey as apparently he was resolved to reveal nothing. Instead she gazed out of the window to enjoy the passing scenery as they grew closer and closer to the shining lights of the capital. All the while, however, her mind wandered to the little slip of parchment Dumbledore had sent. It was now securely tucked away in the small bag she carried, but if felt as if it was burning a hole in the black silk.

"Your brother had a point you know." He commented, apparently at random.

"About what?"

"What he said the other day, asking what you were going to do once this is over, about your future."

"Well, for the moment I'm not sure if I have a future." She replied glumly.

"You will," he said reassuringly, taking her hand in his, "no matter what happens now, you cannot be denied a future."

"Who would trust me though?" she did not meet his eyes, keeping her gaze fixed firmly out the window. "I'd imagine not many."

"They cannot deny that you have told the truth."

"They have to believe that though."

"Eventually they will."

"And when will that be?" she sighed, still avoiding his gaze.

"I doubt that it shall be very long." He gave her an encouraging smile as she diverted her gaze towards him. "What did you want to do? What did you dream of?"

"Well," she paused, as if trying to remember details from another life, "Harry and I always wanted to be Aurors. After years spent fighting it seemed like the logical choice."

"And now?"

"Now, well, I don't actually want to fight any more." She sighed deeply, as if getting a weight off her chest. "Harry still wants to get into the Auror Office, but as far as I'm concerned that opportunity can happily pass me by."

"What about Quidditch? You're nothing short of gifted in that respect."

"That would be fun," her face lit up at the mention of the game she loved so much, "can you imagine it! It would be beyond amazing to play at the World Cup."

"There's teaching too."

"I'm not sure parents would trust me not to corrupt the minds of their children."

"But you would be an obvious choice to teach Defence against the Dark Arts."

"I think I'll leave that to Severus for the moment, he's earned it."

"Politics then?"

"And do exactly like that article in the Prophet said?" she laughed, shaking her head in disbelief.

"I don't think that they were entirely wrong in their estimations."

"But again we have the issue of trust."

"But who in politics is completely trustworthy?"

"I have no desire to be the next Minister for Magic."

"I'm not saying you have to be the figurehead," he shook his head, a crafty smile on his face, "but if change is what is needed, they why not go and do the changing?"

"It sounds like a brilliant plan," she sighed, "but don't you think it's a little premature to start talking about careers?"

"I want you to have your future, no matter what happens. You've earned it. I don't want you to be lingering forever in the house. I don't want it to become a prison."

"I cannot be imprisoned in a place I love." He was about to reply but they entered London and, once again, she was distracted by the early evening vibrancy of the city.

"So, are we any closer to our destination?" she asked him once again as they truly reached central London.

"Very close." He smirked. "In fact, it's just coming up ahead." Craning her neck, Kathryn peered through the windscreen at the great rounded building looking in the distance.

"The Royal Albert Hall?" she quirked an eyebrow at him in disbelief.

"I just happen to have a box."

"It's a Muggle venue?"

"That doesn't stop my enjoyment of great music." For a few moments she simply stared at him in disbelief, frozen in her expression of shock. She snapped out of it, however, as the car rolled to a stop.

"You're serious?"

"Deadly." The driver was now walking around to open his door. As Lucius exited the car, she took a few deep, steadying breaths before the door on her side was pulled open and a hand reached down to help her out.

She exited gracefully, blinking slightly in the light that had been markedly reduced by the tinted car windows. People milled all around them, heading towards the Albert Hall. Some were dressed rather smartly, others just in jeans and trainers. One common feather of all, however, was the face hat they were all staring at the new arrivals. With a curt nod to their driver, Lucius placed his left arm lightly on her waist and they walked forward towards the main doors.

As they walked up the stairs to his box, she wished desperately that she had changed her outfit. She could feel the stared burning into her back and hear the none-too-discrete mutterings of fellow attendees. She knew how it must have looked; Lucius with his cane and she in her dress. It was a stunning dress to be sure, but it was far beyond what anyone else was wearing. Made of cream silk that had the appearance of being loosely wrapped around her slender frame, it was essentially strapless save for a thick band of black velvet that crossed her left shoulder and ended in an oversized bow on the front. This was a motif repeated further down the dress, this time on the right side, at the apex of a long split that went from the floor to her mid-thigh. When teamed with the preposterously high shoes she was wearing, she supposed that the appropriate word was statuesque.

"Everybody is staring." She whispered in his ear.

"So they should be, you look exquisite." He purred back, his face wearing a very satisfied smirk.

"You are unbelievable!"

"So are you. I've seen several young men blink to make sure you're really there." She merely glared at him as they were shown into his box.

"So what have you brought me here for?" she asked once the door was shut behind them and they had taken their seats.

"Mendelssohn's _Italian Symphony_," he explained, "a bit of Rossini, Sir Peter Maxwell Davies' _Roma Amor_ and some Respighi."

"And you didn't stop to think what would happen if you were seen?"

"I was willing to take that chance." He shrugged. They remained silence as a waiter appeared with a bottle of wine and a tray laden with canapés.

"We're a safe distance from Diagon Alley I suppose." She conceded as the lights in the grandly appointed hall dimmed.

"But if you have a box here then how likely is it that there are others from our walk of life here?"

"Well let's just hope the ones who are here have never heard of me." He chuckled.

"I somehow doubt that such a thing is possible, not after daily articles in the Prophet since July."

"Relax," he shrugged as the conductor walked on to great applause, "I'd say we're guaranteed a fair degree of anonymity for the evening."

"Well I just hope your right." She took a satisfying sip of her wine as the orchestra delivered the first few notes of Mendelssohn's _Italian Symphony_. It was a beautiful piece, reflecting the time spent in Italy by the composer. Sitting in the darkness of the grand concert hall, the music surrounded her; it was as if it reached her very soul. Perched on the edge of her seat, she drank in every note. The _Italian Symphony_ was followed by two pieces by Rossini, again on an Italian theme, before the lights went back up for the interval.

"Well?" he asked curiously as applause reverberated off the walls. "What did you think?"

"Well, I think you are most excellent." She beamed at him.

"I take it that means you enjoyed it?"

"It was beautiful." The applause was petering off now. "I'm glad you brought me."

"I thought you'd like it, Mendelssohn was an excellent composer." He explained as she stood.

"I'll be back in a moment," she whispered in his ear, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, "try not to get into any trouble while I'm gone."

Stepping out of the door to their box, she quickly spotted the sign for the ladies and obediently followed, trying to attract as little attention as possible as she did so. Of course, a thigh high split didn't help in that endeavour. She could almost feel people's eyes boring into her back as she walked. Women in particular shot her horribly spiteful glances as their significant other let their gaze wander in her direction.

Slipping into the toilets, she thankfully found a cubicle free and darted in, happy that she wouldn't have to queue and endure more of their stares.

"Did you see that girl?" a voice suddenly said as one of the cubicle doors opened.

"Oh yes." The companion of the first woman replied as she too emerged. "Who didn't?" she added scathingly.

"I don't know who she thinks she is," the first continued, "I certainly don't recognise her."

"Well in a dress like that, she must be someone." The second speculated.

"Someone with too much money." The first snorted. "If it's even hers." Kathryn stared down at her knees, her hands running over the soft fabric of the dress that Lucius had paid for.

"Do you reckon she could be a model?" the second speculated. "I'd kill for legs like that, instead of these stumpy things." Kathryn saw a pair of flat black shoes with a sparkly buckle adornment pass by her cubicle door, followed by the sound of paper towels being pulled from a dispenser.

A third woman exited one of the cubicles.

"Did you see her jewellery too?" she commented as a tap gushed water into one of the sinks. "You've got to have serious cash for things like that."

"What about royalty?" the second woman seemed all too keen to speculate on her possible identity.

"I'd have thought we'd have heard of her if she was. It's not like they're publicity shy."

"Well did you see the man with her?" the second pitched in again.

"Looked old enough to be her father." That was the third woman making a comment.

"And she can only be what, twenty two? Twenty three at most." Kathryn fought the temptation to giggle. What would they say if they found out she was only twenty?

"What would _her_ father think about that eh?" this comment from the first woman stung, as Kathryn could only imagine what her parents would be thinking.

"Well, he must be what? Early forties?" the second woman guessed." He can't be much older than that."

"Devilishly handsome though." The third added. "In fairness to her I can see why she's there." At least this comment made Kathryn smile.

"It's still a bit strange though." The first drawled. "I mean, did you see his cane? With a snake head? What kind of person carries a cane like that these days?"

"Well, he doesn't look short on cash."

"Yeah." The first sighed. "I suppose when you're that rich you can afford not to care what people think about you."

"It's certainly a story to tell at work on Monday" the third woman chuckled. Kathryn heard the creak of the door and three sets of footsteps filed out.

Opening the door a crack, she peered out to find the bathroom blissfully empty. Quickly she washed and dried her hands, giving her hair one last look over before exiting into the carpeted corridor.

Walking back to the box, she had not gone far when she spotted a pair of women, probably in their mid-forties, positively gawping at her. Their mouths were practically hanging open as their gaze flicked from her, to that bathroom, and back to her again. Looking down, Kathryn recognised the black shoes with the sparkly buckle that she had seen only moments earlier. As she drew closer and closer, the women seemed to become more and more nervous, as if expecting her to stop and cause a scene. Instead Kathryn carried on, not even looking at them, at least not until she was just going past. Fixing them with her most regal gaze, she gave a slight smile and spoke.

"Good evening." The objects of her greeting looked dumbfounded as she continued on, gazing after her as if she had just done something spectacular. Kathryn still had the smirk on her face as she walked back into their box.

"You took your time." Lucius commented as she took her seat next to him, taking her hand and planting a light kiss upon it. "I was beginning to worry if you'd abandoned me."

"Oh no," she smiled back at him, "I was just distracted by some rather interesting conversation in the ladies."

"Nothing about me I hope?"

"To be honest I think they were more interested in me." She sighed. "If you went into the gents they'd probably want to line up and shake your hand. I, on the other hand, do not have such luck."

"What do you mean?"

"No matter which society I move in, wizarding or otherwise, all I am seen as is a gold-digger, a slut or a sell-out. Quite frankly it's depressing."

"Think nothing of it. The have no clue about our lives that allows them to make such judgements."

"I still hate it."

"All they are concerned about is appearance." He reassured her. "They know nothing of who you are or what you have done for them. Because of you, their lives are secure, but all they do is look and see the dress and the diamonds and assume that it is all because of me."

"Well, when it comes to the dress and the diamonds, I suppose they are right." She sighed, gazing somewhat morosely over the auditorium as the lights went down again.

"But everything else is all you." He shot her a dashing smile. "They have no idea that you are the one with all the power in this couple." They spoke no further as the first strains of Sir Peter Maxwell Davies' _Roma Amor_ reached their ears. It was fortunate, seeing as Kathryn had no reply for that particular comment.

Just as the previous pieces had been, the music was beautiful. The notes soared around the hall; enveloping her and making her feel like she was the only witness to this masterpiece. It was only Lucius' hand, resting gently upon hers, that reminded her she was not alone. She watched him in the darkness, noting how his face was completely concentrated on the music. Followed by Respighi, she thought that the evening had been just about perfect as the crowd rose to its feet in applause.

"Worth breaking the rules for?" he asked once the applause had died down and people were beginning to make their way out.

"You're always worth breaking the rules for." She smirked back. "Are you up for any more? I'm starving!"

"I'm sure we could find somewhere for a late dinner."

"Excellent."

"Shall we?" standing, he offered her his arm and together they exited their box and joined the crowds thronging towards the exits. She could feel people staring again, but she held her head up high. If she was not ashamed to be seen with him in the wizarding world, then she was damned is she was going to feel ashamed in the Muggle world. True, these people she didn't know judged her, but that was the point; they knew nothing about her.

"I'll be back in a moment." She whispered in his ear as they reached the foyer. The sky outside the main doors was dark, the nights already cutting in after the summer. Slipping into the nearest bathroom, she locked herself in a cubicle and pulled out a small square of black fabric. Taking her wand, she returned the swatch of fabric to its original size and flung it over her shoulder. After all, it was nearly the autumn and the nights were growing cooler. As she left the cubicle, she knew what the women around her must be thinking, but instead of dwelling on it like last time she shrugged it off, readjusted her hair and strode back out into the foyer.

Lucius, standing waiting for her return, took the chance to observe all the other people in the room. Many were looking at him curiously, others were disinterested, and others were looking in the exact opposite direction. Following their line of sight, he saw a raven-haired beauty walk into view. His raven-haired beauty. A black fur wrap was now draped loosely over her arms, matching the velvet trim of the dress. She was truly statuesque, regal even. Her face was a mask of indifference, as if she was used to everyone staring. Indeed, everyone was staring, as each stride bared a vast expanse of pale, slender leg. She gave the tiniest of smirks as their eyes met; a smirk he returned as she finally stopped before him.

"And you worry about me not being discrete." He commented as the rest of the audience bustled around them.

"Very funny." She drawled as he slipped an arm about her waist and they began to head for the south exit.

They stepped into the darkness of the night, onto the steps leading up to the south entrance of the Albert Hall. They cut a swathe through the crowds, people stopping to stare as they passed.

"Have you ever seen anything like it?" she heard one woman whisper as they walked.

"Not likely." Lucius sniggered in her ear as more eyes turned their way.

All around them, people watched as the mysterious couple were met at the foot of the steps by a sleek black car. With the combination of his cane and her stupendous jewellery, everyone knew that these two were probably richer than their wildest dreams. Yet, behind the wealth, they saw the real affection with which he regarded her as he helped her into the car. Then they were gone, hidden behind darkened glass and whisked away into the London night.

After a late supper of French onion soup and more wine in a nearby restaurant, the London Saturday night was in full swing. People were everywhere, and although they were so very wrapped up in their own activities, they still found a moment to stare.

"So what now?" he asked her as they stood beside his car. "Home?"

"Well, I did have something in mind," she smirked playfully, "but we won't need the car."

"Do I get to know where we are going?"

"Not yet," her reply was coy, "trust me."

"As you wish." With a few murmured words to the driver, the car slid away into the night. "Lead on."

Taking his hand, she led him through Regent's Park; past the spectacular fountain and out the east side of the park. After that, they meandered through the nearby streets, past some truly spectacular homes, finally arriving in what he would have described as a fairly standard Muggle street. None of the townhouses were that remarkable, the only strange thing being that there was no number twelve between eleven and thirteen.

"So why exactly have you brought me here?" he drawled, quite plain that he would rather be in the car on the way back to the manor.

"Well," she sighed, gazing at numbers eleven and thirteen as if there was something there he couldn't see, "you could say that I've decided to give you a gift."

"And that gift is here?" he didn't sound too interested.

"Well, it will be in a minute." Her smile grew wider still.

"What are you smiling about?" he demanded as she dug in her bag, pulling out a scrap of parchment.

"Don't ask, just read this." She placed the parchment in his hands and he opened it to reveal a familiar spindly writing.

_The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix is located at number 12 Grimmauld Place, London._

It was only one sentence, but looking up at the space between numbers eleven and thirteen, a house had materialised. The door was black and had a number twelve just above the brass knocker. Taking the parchment, the tapped it with her wand and it incinerated in a burst of flame.

"You once asked me where I hid." She said quietly, taking his hand in hers. "This is it."

"You cannot seriously be doing this."

"I trust you." She made to pull him towards the door.

"What about your Godfather?" he was understandably uneasy about having to face Sirius for the second time that day.

"Harry told me that they were going to stay with the Weasleys tonight," she explained, "the house should be empty."

"You know that this isn't important to me anymore." He reminded her as they walked up the steps to the front door.

"I know, but I want you to see it."

"Why?"

"Because it's important to me. I have seen every inch of the manor and you have no idea how I have lived. I want you to see." Pushing open the door as quietly as she could, she led him inside, making sure he avoided the umbrella stand that Tonks so often tripped over. She could hear the faint noises of Mrs. Black dozing behind her velvet curtain and breathed a sigh of relief. Lucius, meanwhile, was staring up at the stuffed heads of the previous House Elves.

"This is Orion Black's house, isn't it?" he asked in a hushed tone. Kathryn nodded in response. "I've never been before now, but I've hear the stories about the heads." He nodded towards the macabre wall adornments.

"Sirius' mother is behind there." She whispered, nodding at the curtain.

"What do you mean?"

"Her portrait lives behind that curtain, we can't get it off and she is very vocal about us living here. She doesn't like we half bloods and traitors."

"I see."

Sparing little time for the rest of the tour, they walked gingerly up the stairs until they reached the very top floor that Sirius had converted all those years ago. Standing before the door, she whispered in his ear.

"No one, save my brother, friends and Godfather, has ever been in here." All of a sudden she was nervous. "This means a lot to me." Turning the handle, she let him in to what, for so many years, had been her private sanctuary. It was just as she had left it months ago. The crisp cream sheets, with their red coverlet, were neatly arranged. The lights of London blazed behind the shut curtains and the remnants of a fire burned in the grate. Maybe Sirius never gave up the hope that she would come home. Just as a precaution, she locked the door behind them and put an imperturbable charm in place.

"Sirius made all this for me when I arrived." She explained, gesturing at everything. "There was no more space in the house you see. This used to be the attic."

"That was nice of him."

"It was incredibly nice seeing as I just showed up on the doorstep without warning."

"And this is the headquarters of the Order too?"

"Always has been, at least, since Dumbledore reformed the order just before fifth year."

"I can't believe that I'm standing here, after everything that went on. After all I did to try and get you to tell me." His voice was heavily tinged with remorse.

"You have earned this privilege." She told him softly. "And this one." Pulling him towards her, she kissed him fully, deeply. He wasted no time in taking the hint; drinking her in like they had done the fine wine that evening. Her bed was as soft as she remembered, and she was suddenly quite glad that she had asked for a sizeable bed.

For the first time, she made love in her own bed; a place she had vowed never to share until she had someone truly remarkable. They may have remained quiet, for safety's sake, but they were no less impassioned. Although nothing was said, Lucius knew the great leap she was taking; letting him into a space that she had protected for so long. It was an incredibly selfless act on her behalf; letting him in somewhere that she had so painstakingly protected. Listening to the muffled noises of the city outside, they lay sleepily together and did not worry about the morning.

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A/N - Just a note, her dress is inspired by the one that is used to advertise the perfume Cinema by Yves Saint Laurent.


	81. Chapter 81

A/N - Hello all!!! Apologies for the longer than planned absence....my only excuse is being very busy at work....and very distracted by True Blood!!! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter, and I shall reassure you that the next one is quite well formed in my head so it shouldn't take too long to get onto paper (well, sort of!). Consider this your Halloween present (although it technically isn't Halloween in the story...but I have something very good planned for that in a few chapters time)

As usual, please read, enjoy and leave me a nice review to make me write faster!!!

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Blinking in the pale morning light, she woke up with Lucius' arm wrapped securely around her waist. For a moment, she couldn't remember where she was; her eyes seeing red curtains instead of the long green drapes she was used to. Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was going on half past ten, and suddenly what had seemed like such a good idea the night before looked reckless in the harsh light of day.

"Bugger." She murmured, pulling on her glasses.

"Good morning to you too." He replied sleepily, pulling her back towards him. "What's the problem?"

"It's half past ten."

"It's a Sunday." Had he not been lying down, he would have shrugged.

"We're not at the Manor," she reminded him in a whisper, "I don't know if people are back or not."

"You could just go and see."

"And have them wondering what the hell's going on? Not after yesterday."

"Then what do you suggest." Sensing her worry, he wisely kept his voice at a murmur.

"Kreacher." She called out quietly. "Kreacher!" seconds later there was a crack and the wizened old elf appeared in the middle of the room.

"Why, what can Kreacher do for Miss Kathryn?" he asked, bowing low; Regulus' locked grazing the floor. "Kreacher is not knowing you are returned."

"Well, Kreacher, I actually only came back for the night." She explained, pulling the covers about herself as she sat up. "And we're going to have to go soon."

"Kreacher would like to welcome Mister Malfoy to the most ancient and noble house of Black." Kreacher made Lucius a very low bow. "Such an illustrious guest this house has not seen for many years."

"Kreacher, we don't have time for this." Kathryn cut in before he could embellish further. "Have the others got back from the Weasleys yet?"

"Yes Miss, is you wanting Kreacher to inform them of your presence?"

"No!" she hissed urgently. "You cannot tell them that I was here, or that Lucius was here. Understand?"

"Kreacher understands."

"Where are they now?"

"Master Sirius is in the bathroom," Kreacher listed off, "Master Harry is in his bedroom with Miss Ginny, and Master Weasley is with Miss Granger in the library."

"Anyone else?"

"Mrs Weasley is making lunch in the kitchen and her husband is reading the newspaper."

"Excellent. Do you think you would be able to get a couple of mugs of tea up here without anyone noticing?"

"Kreacher will be invisible." With another low bow, he disappeared.

"Can he be trusted?" Lucius asked curiously, running a hand through his errant hair.

"Kreacher is most loyal."

"I've heard he wasn't always so devoted to his family."

"Well, there was that one aberration in fifth year," she shrugged, "but that matter is resolved and forgotten."

"Very well. But just how exactly are we going to get out of this house?"

"How fast can you have the car here?" she asked, pulling on his discarded shirt before digging in a sparsely filled chest of drawers for some pyjamas, throwing some over to Lucius.

"An hour and a half." He guessed as he pulled the bottoms on.

"Then get the car to come and pick us up, there's some paper in my desk." He went where her hand pointed him, scrawling off a quick note and sending it in a burst of flame.

"Why can't we just use the Floo?" he asked, casting his eye over the fireplace.

"My fireplace isn't connected," she shook her head, "we only use the one in the kitchen." They both jumped slightly as Kreacher reappeared with two steaming mugs.

"Thank you Kreacher." Kathryn took the two mugs, as Lucius settled himself back onto the bed. "Everyone is still unawares?"

"Yes they is Miss." Kreacher nodded. "They has no clue, Kreacher sneaks past them like a ghost."

"Thank you. There will be a car coming to the square soon; would you be so good as to let me know when it arrives?"

"It will be done." Kreacher bowed and disappeared with a crack.

"That seems a bit silly, don't you think?" Lucius commented after taking a long drink of tea. "To have only one fireplace connected to the Floo?"

"It was in case we were ever compromised," she explained, crawling back into bed, "better the intruders to emerge in the kitchen then in our bedrooms."

"I suppose that makes sense."

"We had charms in place that would warn us of any presence in the house that was hostile."

"And what about me?" he asked slyly, wrapping an inquisitive arm around her waist. "Surely I am still considered a threat under this roof?"

"Not under this part of the roof." She replied seductively, leaning into his embrace. Planting a kiss on his shoulder, she set her empty mug on the bedside table and manoeuvred herself into his lap. "And certainly never here." She smirked, dipping her head to capture his lips.

"I should hope not." He smirked back in reply when she finally gave him a moment to talk. Undoing what buttons she had managed to fasten on his shirt, he slid the soft fabric off her shoulders and allowed himself a moment to admire the beauty before him. The look that passed over her face as his hands stroked over her skin was nearly enough to undo him. She could not help herself from giggling as he awkwardly removed the pyjamas she had given him, determined not to let her out of his grasp. Her laughter, delightful though it was, was silenced by a swift kiss; each of them tangling their fingers in the other's hair as they pulled their bodies flush.

Trying her best to be mindful of where they were, she did her best to remain quiet as he entered her; clinging onto his shoulders as she rocked up and down, even going so far as to sink her teeth into his shoulder to stop herself from crying out. Of course, they were not entirely successful in that respect and she hoped that they were far enough away from everyone else in the house to avoid discovery.

A little while later, lying in a tangle of limbs in the morning sun, they could not be happier.

"We need to get up." She told him lethargically, glancing at the clock.

"Really?" he asked, running a hand up and down the smooth skin of her back. "But here is so much more agreeable."

"Enjoy it though you may, the longer we stay here, the more likely it is they will find us." She reminded him. "Although I have no objection to resuming our activities once we get back home." She smirked, levering herself up and wrapping one of the bed sheets around her. Moving quietly, she walked about the bedroom, picking up her discarded clothes from the previous night.

"Well at least that is an incentive." He smirked at her.

"Well get a move on, the car will be here any minute." Reluctantly, he stood and began to gather up his own clothes. He was slightly bemused as to why she began to rummage in her drawers for clothes.

"Do you really need to change?" he asked. "We're only going to be in the car."

"Well, I want to stop in Diagon Alley before we leave, if that's alright?"

"Of course."

"Excellent!" she triumphantly pulled out a black garment from the back of one of the drawers. As she pulled it on, he realised that it was one of his shirts. To this, she added a belt embellished with gold sequins which cinched in her waist and nothing much else. Carefully, she rolled up the sleeves and checked in the mirror to make sure she looked half decent.

"Ready!" she pronounced, slipping her feet into her vertiginous shoes.

"Really?" he raised an eyebrow in apprehension.

"Well it's not like I'm going to go round Diagon Alley dressed like I was last night." She laughed, draping last night's dress over her arm.

"People might wonder what you've been up to." He brushed his fingers across a rather vivid bruise that he had left behind on her neck.

"Let them wonder." She replied as Kreacher appeared with a crack.

"Kreacher is coming to inform you that the car you is waiting for is just arrived."

"Thank you Kreacher." Kathryn nodded. "And thank you for your help this morning."

"Kreacher is glad to serve Miss Potter and her illustrious guest." The elf bowed low.

"Just make sure no one finds out." With a final bow, Kreacher disappeared again.

"Now," she held out her hand to Lucius, "take my hand."

"I you couldn't apparate?"

"You can apparate within the house, including to the front step." She explained before gently twisting through the motions of apparition with Lucius by her side. They reappeared on the front step and, being careful not to bump against the door as they moved, walked swiftly down the steps and across the courtyard to the car.

"Did you hear something?" Harry asked as the four of them sat in the front drawing room with mugs of tea, biscuits and the Sunday papers spread on the coffee table before them.

"No, what?" Ron shook his head, grabbing another biscuit.

"I thought I heard someone at the door." He leaned around and looked through the door to the hallway, expecting someone to come through.

"It might've been next door mate." Ron reminded him, just as the muffled noise of car doors opening and closing reached their ears.

"But that has to be someone." Instead of sitting down, Harry moved over to the window and peeked around the curtain.

Outside, standing be the open door of the car, Kathryn took one last look up at the house that had been her home for four years. It saddened her to think that, at least in her Godfather's mind, she was no longer welcome there. Had she been on a family tapestry, she was sure that Sirius would be very close to blasting her if it, just like his mother had done to him. There was a twitch at the front curtains and she saw her brother's faces staring back at her. His eyes widened in shock when he saw her standing there, but instead of slinking away, she held his gaze.

Harry couldn't believe what he was seeing. Kathryn was there, waiting to get back into Malfoy's car. She looked like she hadn't long been out of bed and was wearing what he could only describe as a man's shirt that she had managed to make look like a dress. Her feet were in another pair of painfully high shoes which only served to attract further attention to her already exposed legs. He could not see if there was anyone else in the car, but the small, knowing smile that she gave him hinted that there probably was.

"Who is it?" Hermione asked, reminding Harry that there were other people in the room.

As her brother's head turned, presumably to tell the others in the room that she was outside, she sank back down into the car and they drove away as soon as her door shut.

Turning back to the window, his sister and the car were gone.

"No one." He lied, returning to his seat next to Ginny. "Just the neighbours." He didn't know why she had been there, but at this point he didn't really see the need to pry. Letting Ginny lean comfortably against his shoulder, he picked up the editorial section of the Sunday Prophet to see what they had decided to write about his sister today. There were two pictures of her, placed side by side; one of her impeccably dressed as she arrived at the courtroom a few days ago, looking supremely confident. The second was of her, looking browbeaten and terribly young, as she arrived at the Ministry on Friday morning.

Above the two pictures was the banner heading; 'Who is she?' In it, the author compared and contrasted the two conflicting images that had been presented during the past two years. Over the three pages, there were photographs of her when she had been with friends, taken by photographers when she had been in Diagon Alley during various school holidays. There were also the photos taken when she had been with Malfoy.

Most of them were from the trips they had taken to Dubai and Australia, but there were others that were billed as exclusive, unseen images from Quidditch games and the final ball they had held at Hogwarts. She was there sat next to him in the stands, intently whispering and laughing. At the ball they were pictured dancing, laughing and generally enjoying each others company. In one photograph, obviously taken without their knowing; his arm was wound around her waist, her body pressed tightly against his as they had grown accustomed to seeing. Beneath each of these exclusive photos was an acknowledgement to Colin Creevey for providing them.

In a way, Harry understood what was being said. There were two sides to his sister, he had seen them often enough. She had shouldered so much responsibility over the past few months, taken so much blame, that all people seemed to be able to think of was the figure that now carried the serpent-topped cane. This person was always impeccably dressed and wore an implacable mask; never betraying a single glimpse of the person who was really beneath. Her other self, one now rarely seen outside of the Manor, was refreshingly open and happy. She had given the world a glimpse of that person as she arrived late on Friday morning, dressed as a young woman of her age should be, for much as she exuded maturity and confidence, she was still only twenty.

Harry, being in a better position to comment than the author of the article, knew that these two 'personas' his sister seemed to have were not separate as the writer seemed to suggest. It was perhaps a by product of conducting a life, as well as a secret life, in the glare of the spotlight. What perhaps angered him more was that Colin had given the Prophet access to things that were supposed to remain private.

"Colin's sold her out." He commented crossly, flinging the section back onto the table for them all to see.

"Oh," Hermione's face fell as her eyes scanned over the photos, "that does not make her look good; going about like that in plain view."

"Well it's a bit late for that now." Ron chipped in. "She's not exactly low-key, is she?" Harry decided not to mention that she had been very low key if she had indeed been in the house overnight.

"It's not like she had a choice." He reminded Ron. "Neither of us had."

"Yeah, fair cop."

"She looks happy though." Ginny commented, picking up the section of newspaper. "That they cannot deny."

"That's because I think she is." Harry sighed, resigning himself to that truth he had tried to ignore for so long.

"So, just exactly how much shopping do you intend to do?" Lucius asked her curiously as they drove in the direction of the Leaky Cauldron. "Should I just leave you in Diagon Alley perhaps, and send the car back once I am home?"

"Very funny." She hit him lightly on the arm. "I shan't be too long; there are just a few things I would like to get. After all, considering how often I am going to be appearing at the Ministry, it would not do for my wardrobe to be lacking!"

"Of course not."

"I shan't be long, I promise." She gave him a quick kiss as the car pulled to a halt in Diagon Alley.

As she walked down the street and disappeared in one of the discreet black doors, Lucius watched how people stared at her. There were many fingers pointed and eyebrows raised at her questionable attire. As was normal with men's shirts, the seam curved upward at either side; exposing quite a bit of thigh.

"Look at her;" he heard one woman say as she stood by the car, "she's barely dressed!"

"That's a man's shirt!" The advantage of being hidden behind the tinted glass of the car was that he could hear every passing comment whilst others remained completely oblivious to his presence.

"And look, there's a love bite on her neck!" he heard another comment. "She stands in that court and defends him and then flirts around behind his back. Disgusting."

Although he knew that she could see the looks and probably hear the hushed whispers, she strode on as if she had not a care in the world. She was true to her word and was not very long; she darted in and out of each shop and emerged with a handful of bags. By the time she was done he did begin to wonder if she would fit all the bags in the car, although he was impressed that she had managed to procure such a vast collection of things in only half an hour.

"Are you sure that's quite enough?" he asked dryly as she slid back down into the seat beside him.

"Oh I think that'll do for about a week." She replied in an equally dry tone as the car pulled away. "Considering how often I am going to be at the Ministry, it wouldn't do to be lacking in clothes."

"Should I be concerned about my bank balance?"

"It's not your wallet that's footing the bill." She shrugged. "I can buy my own jeans."

"You don't have to you know."

"I know, but I don't want to have to rely on you for clothes." She tried to explain as delicately as possible. "I don't want to be kept. You do understand, don't you?"

"I understand." He understood that she was sincere in her reasoning; not wanting to look like she was being induced into remaining with him.

"And besides, that means you can save your money for more important things, like diamonds!" she laughed, leaning against his shoulder as the scenery of outer London flashed past the window.

"Well, they do look exceedingly good around your neck." He chuckled, his fingers toying with the diamonds that hung from her ears. "And I am quite a fan of your current outfit."

"I bet you are." She snorted, smoothing the shirt down over her legs. "And I bet no one else is; I saw the way they were looking at me."

"You mean to tell me you care what they think?"

"Well, no, but I do wish people wouldn't stare." They sat in silence for a while, watching the verdant countryside roll by, before she spoke again.

"You know Snape was talking about tomorrow," she reminded him of the previous day's conversation, "have you thought about what they're going to do?"

"Not massively, although if Fudge wants to have any credibility he will eventually have to ask me to provide my side to the story."

"Will it be as long as mine?" she asked with a giggle.

"I'd imagine not, I see no need to repeat the truth that has already been told. I imagine that they will want me to enlighten them as to my reasoning."

"Will I like your reasoning?"

"I think you'll like the latter half."

"Well that's fine with me."

Upon arriving back at the Manor, and after having a light lunch, they retired upstairs as she had promised; spending several hours entwined on a hastily enlarged chaise lounge that sat in the sun on the balcony.

"You are happy here, aren't you?" his question caught her by surprise. His eyes were earnest, his expression leaving her in no doubt of the gravity he attached to the question.

"Of course." She replied with a smile from her perch on the stone balustrade. "Why would you think otherwise?"

"It's not that I think otherwise, I just wanted to make sure." He explained; his mind quite obviously occupied.

"This house holds many things that make me happy," she added, seeking to reassure him, "of course that is slightly lessened by your absence, but for the moment that is unavoidable."

"I assure I would much rather be here with you than in my usual accommodations."

"I think of this house as my home, I hope you know that." his heart swelled with happiness at such a statement. "And I don't think I shall ever tire of this view." She finished, gazing wistfully out over the gardens.

"I don't think I shall either." He concurred with a smirk, gazing at her figure that was barely covered by the pale cream sheet she had wrapped around herself. He smirked further as she blushed deeply.

"You know I don't know what people would think if they heard some of the things you say!" she laughed, sinking down to join him once more.

"Well it's true."

"Still, I think that such declarations would come as a surprise to many, me included."

"Why does it surprise you?" he seemed quite shocked at this particular revelation.

"Well, I suppose I've never really dared let my thoughts wander that way." She confessed. "I don't want to get hurt."

"Hurt?"

"Well, and I mean I know that this is no precedent, but with, you know, well…" she did not seem able to be voice the words, but he knew what she wanted to say.

"My wife?"

"Yeah, well, I mean, look at what happened."

"You fear I'll grow weary of you?"

"I fear that I will never be able to have my feelings returned." She told him quietly, not meeting his eye.

"Have I ever given you reason to believe so?"

"No, it's just that I'm afraid." With that, she stood and meandered back indoors to find her clothes. After a while spent thinking about what she had said, and of the conversation he'd had with Severus the other evening, he too headed in to find out where she had gone.

He found her in the kitchen, sorting out what appeared to be a light dinner.

"We'll have that outside." He told one of the house elves, taking her by the hand and leading her out of the kitchen.

"Why are you afraid?" he asked as they walked over the lawns. "I would not have you afraid of me." The concern in his eyes was very evident to see.

"I'm not afraid of you," she reassured him, "I'm afraid of getting hurt."

"I know I have hurt you before, and I would undo it if I could," he confessed, remorse clear in his expression, "but I swear to you that I could not bear to raise a hand against you, not now."

"No, not hurt like that." She tried to explain as they arrived at where all the food she had organised was spread out on a large rug, as well as a bottle of Champagne.

"Well, let's sit down, have some dinner, and you can tell me what you mean." Relieved at how calm he was being, she sank down onto the soft rug and put together a plate of cheese, bread, Parma ham and fruit. After a few mouthfuls, she began once more to speak.

"I suppose it's because for as long as I've known you, and by that I mean since the day we first met, I've always understood you to be cold, arrogant and heartless; implacable, if you will." It hurt him to hear such a description, but he knew that it was true. "And up until a year ago I was very much in agreement with that particular perspective. Now, however, I see such a different man; one who is open and friendly and so very attentive."

"I won't deny that I have spent most of my life as the former." He commented before silencing to allow her to continue.

"I think it's just hard for me to reconcile the person I knew you to be with the man now before me." She kept her gaze from his, instead looking intently at the rug beneath her. "It's like the Prophet has written about me today," she had closely studied the editorial article over the course of that afternoon, "I don't know which one you are either. Beyond these walls you still have that implacable, aloof front and I worry that one day you will wake up and wonder what the hell you've been doing."

"I really do doubt that."

"However you may doubt it, I still fear it. I have stood and defended you before my friends and before the public and I do not think that I could bear the pain if you were to revert to form." She supposed that was the best way to express what she was feeling. "My heart could not take it." Her voice cracked as she spoke those final words, and she looked up to find Lucius gazing at her with utmost concern.

"Well, if that is the case, let me tell you this." He gently took her hand in his. "You have meant more to me than any other person I have ever known. More than my wife, more than my son."

"Really?" she was glad that she was sitting down otherwise her knees probably would have given way.

"Really." He confirmed with a smile. "You have taught me what it is to be noble, what it means to be willing to lay down your life for someone. Before June, there was no one for whom I would have done something so foolhardy, no one at all."

"Then I am very pleased." She smiled broadly at him. "Very pleased indeed."

"It is hard for me to tell you exactly what you mean to me," he went on, "because though you fear that I may tire of you, I have spent far too long plagued by the fear that you will one day announce that you are bored."

After that, there was little more to say. They lay there in the late afternoon sunshine, eating, drinking their wine and talking; enjoying their last free moments of the weekend before the previous weeks' ordeal was to begin again.


	82. Chapter 82

A/N - And so Lucius finally gets his chance to speak.....

Also, a couple of quick announcements....

Firstly, many thanks to cookiecuttergirl for such a lovely review....really made the start of my holiday great!!!

Secondly, I am in the process of updating and revising the earlier chapters of this story to bring them more into line with my current writing style. It is something that has been dogging my mind for a while, so while I was away I decided to start as soon as I got back!! I have done chapers 1 to 4 so far, and it would be worth going back to have a look as I have added more description/changed certain events around slightly.

Anyway, i'll let you read now!!! I hope you enjoy this chapter and, if you feel so inclined, it would be lovely to hear what you think!!

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As she had expected, Scrimgeour and Dawlish were there to meet them as their car pulled up in the dingy London alley that concealed the public entrance to the Ministry.

"And so back to the circus." She sighed, running her hands through her hair and smoothing imaginary wrinkles out of her dress. Ever the gentlemen, he exited first before offering his hand to help her out.

"Good morning gentlemen." The two pairs faced each other down the alley.

"Good morning, Miss Potter." Scrimgeour was at least being polite. "Minister Fudge would like to politely request that you keep your entrance discreet."

"I suppose that could be arranged." She shrugged. "He was so kind as to give me a peaceful weekend."

"My thanks." Scrimgeour nodded in appreciation. "Mr. Dawlish and I shall escort Mr. Malfoy down to the courtroom through the back passages."

"Very well," she sighed, "I'll see you down there." They kissed quickly, but surely; neither knowing when they would be together again.

She waited until they had disappeared round the alley corner before stepping into the phone box and dialling the number. She leant against the inside of the phone box as she slipped below the pavement, resting her left leg against the side at the same time. She wasn't entirely sure if she wanted to hear what he had to say today, but she was damned if she was going to look afraid.

She waited a moment as the door of the phone box swung open before stepping into the foyer, and it was no meek entrance. She strode with purpose, and soon every pair of eyes was on her. She cut a swathe through the grand foyer, her shoes clicking off the tiled floor as she made her way to the elevators. Even people who knew her well were gawping at her, and she knew why. Today, she was not here to give testimony; she did not have to dress to send a message or to make a good impression. Today she could come as herself; wealthy and powerful in her own right, not just because of a man.

Despite the fact that there were people clamouring to get into the lifts, being as it was one minute to ten, she was unaccompanied for her journey down to the ninth level. Again, on the stairs down to level ten, she was given a wide berth. She could feel the stares boring into her back, but she was quite pleased hat her current reputation afforded her the room to move in the crowded corridor.

Entering Courtroom Ten, she spotted Harry, Ron and Hermione quickly, and gave them a quick nod of greeting. She paid Dumbledore and Snape the same courtesy as she passed. To her surprise, she saw that Harry had kept the seat next to him on the end of the row empty. Sirius was safely situated further along the row behind, near Lupin, Tonks and Bill Weasley, so she deemed the seat safe to take.

Harry did his best not to smirk as his sister approached, for he knew that whatever their personal opinions may be, every man in the room could not fail to be just a tad envious of Lucius Malfoy at that point. For today, she had chosen a long black coat that was made of some fluid fabric, with a deep collar that was trimmed with leather. It was obviously not intended to be buttoned up as it hung very open and loose around her figure, revealing the outfit beneath.

Even in the darkness that pervaded the great stone room, her dress shone out like a beacon. By the way it moved as she walked, it was apparently embroidered all over with tiny beads. It was a stark contrast to the dress she had worn the previous Monday, being so youthful and frivolous. This disparity way even more evident in the hemline, ending only half-way down her thigh. As perhaps a token gesture towards modesty, she did appear to be wearing stockings, as well as a pair of thigh-high black boots that looked like they were made of some velvety fabric. It was worth noting that, even in heels, the coat still trailed along the floor behind her.

"I take it you went shopping?" he remarked dryly as she sat down.

"Possibly." She smirked back at her brother. "Thanks for the seat."

"Well, I thought you could use a friendly face to sit next to." He shrugged off the thought he had taken in making sure they sat somewhere with a good view of where Lucius would be sitting. "Better than sitting nest to a bunch of gossips."

"Well, I think if Fudge had his way I'd be sitting down there." She nodded towards the still-vacant chair in the middle of the room. "To be fair, I might as well be."

"Well, you're not down there and you have no reason to be." Before she could thank Harry for such support, the courtroom hushed as the occupant of that specific chair was escorted in by Scrimgeour, Dawlish and other members of the Auror department. Though she could see him well enough from where she was sat, she rose from her seat and held his gaze until he had been securely chained down. As the doors at the side of the Wizengamot's benches banged open, the rest of the courtroom got to their feet, and Kathryn quite promptly returned to hers. She sat with her legs crossed, her back straight and her right hand on his cane glaring directly at Fudge, as if daring him to challenge her very blatant snub. He did not, however, and briskly shuffled his papers as they took their seats.

"Over the course of the previous week," Fudge addressed the entire room, "we have seen and heard testimony from Miss Kathryn Potter as to what transpired between herself and the accused, Lucius Malfoy. Today we reconvene in order to examine the reasons behind his actions." The assembled onlookers looked quite delighted at the prospect of being privy to such gritty details.

"So, Mr Malfoy," as he had done with Kathryn, Fudge began the questioning, "I believe that first thing that the Wizengamot would like to know is why exactly you did not hand Miss Potter over to your Master once she had fallen into your grasp?"

"Simple," Lucius shrugged as best he could, "I wanted her." There were gasps from around the courtroom at this rather callous admission, but Harry could discern nothing in his sister's cool expression. Half the room was staring at her, hoping for some adverse reaction, but they were to be sorely disappointed.

"No other reason?"

"Well, being who she was, I knew she was party to a great deal of information that some of my associates would have gladly liked to hear." He explained, keeping his eyes fixed on the Wizengamot and not once looking at the person about whom he spoke.

"So she was basically a useful source of information?" Fudge surmised.

"Yes, although I was not about to go running to the Dark Lord claiming to have vital information when I did not know if she would give it up. Besides, delivering her to the Dark Lord would have swiftly led to her death, and I was not about to waste such a fine prize."

"And you therefore admit that you raped and tortured her?"

"Yes." There was a flurry of frenzied muttering as he coolly acknowledged what he had done. "I have no wish to deny it. However, before you condemn me as a monster, I would seek to remind you that the same would have happened had she chosen to spy on any other of the Death Eaters. The only difference being that she would not have left their residences alive."

"Be that as it may, I still do not consider your actions merciful."

"They were not intended to be so," though his voice was cold and curt, Kathryn could see the distaste in his face at having to recount his actions, "I desired to cause pain, but as opposed to the likes of the Lestrange brothers, I understood that far worse pain can be caused when the victim is left alive."

"What a charming insight."

"I intended to cause pain, and I believe I succeeded."

"Yet, as Miss Potter has explained to us, she still refused to give up and information concerning the Order of the Phoenix. Why, pray, did you continue in your efforts?"

"Her resilience was," he paused, considering his choice of words, "frustrating. I became somewhat obsessed. I wanted nothing more than to break her, to win."

"Did you believe you would be successful?"

"I did," he nodded confidently; "I had never before failed to get what I wanted from someone, be it by psychological coercion or more brutal methods."

"I see," Fudge made some quick scribbled note before continuing, "and why did you choose such a particular method with which to torment Miss Potter?" Harry kept his eyes on Kathryn as they waited for Lucius' response.

"I wanted her to hate herself, to feel ridden with guilt," he explained slowly, "because I made her enjoy it. I did not beat her into submission, I gave her a choice. She chose to prolong the pain, not I." Kathryn sat stoically through this statement, although Harry could tell from the way her face tensed slightly that she did not like what she was hearing. He also noticed that she was trembling slightly, her hand wobbling as she brushed her hair out of her eyes.

"Yes, well, that appears to correspond with what Miss Potter has related to us, although I can't say it was much of a choice." With a wave of his hand, Fudge passed the line of questioning to another member of the Wizengamot. The woman who spoke was the one with the thick ginger hair that was going grey at the roots. Today she had a necklace made up of several strings of glass beads that were various colours of red, to complement her hair.

"Did you have no care for Miss Potter's age at the time of these events?" she asked, her mouth a hard, disapproving line.

"No." He responded coldly. "I did what I thought was necessary."

"So you had no emotional qualms over what you had done?"

"None. What I did that week, and on subsequent occasions, was naught but a means to an end. Emotion was not involved."

"And yet now this young woman, for whom you had no reservations about injuring in such a grievous manner, sits in an unparalleled position of privilege in your eyes. How do you explain that?"

"Many things have changed since two years ago."

"Well, let's begin first with reasons behind certain actions. For example, what I cannot understand is why you have bestowed millions of galleons worth of jewellery on someone who you only set out to hurt? Much of it also appears to have been given before the so-called change in affections that Miss Potter has told us about."

"All part of the illusion," he smirked, "I made sure that she was to be on my arm, where possible, and I made sure that she looked her best. It was all meant to make the guilt even worse, to make the betrayal deeper."

"What about now? For I do believe that Miss Potter has been seen with many a fancy jewel around her neck."

"What I like to lay around her neck is my own business, not yours." Whilst Kathryn cracked a smile at this comment, the witch looked visibly shocked.

"As you wish." With a nod, she passed on the questioning.

"Mr. Malfoy, where was your wife in all of this?" the gentleman who spoke was the portly one who had addressed Kathryn first the previous Tuesday. "Was she aware of your activities?"

"No, she was not."

"And she raised no question of your attending functions at Hogwarts without her? Or the Quidditch match in Dubai?"

"Narcissa considered herself to have more important social commitments than those of a school, and she was no fan of Quidditch. She saw nothing untoward in my actions."

"But she was still your wife. Did you not even consider this to be a betrayal on your part?"

"Before I allowed myself to be emotionally involved, no." Kathryn did the maths in her head and guessed that he meant up until last summer. "So from summer last year up until Christmas, I suppose you could say that what I did was a disloyalty to her."

"Yet you do not sound like you regret it."

"I do not." Lucius' voice was curt and clear in the echoing room; the muttering ceased for fear of missing a single word. "Though there was affection between us when we married, the match was made with great financial consideration. She was everything she was meant to be, but after twenty years it becomes a little dull. There was little love lost between us really, she had her life and I had mine. Of course, I did care for her, how could I not? But I do not consider mine to be a great betrayal. Of course, were she here, I'm sure her feelings would be quite different."

"Ah yes, I suppose that her death was in some way convenient for you."

"I would not call any death convenient."

"But it has spared you and Miss Potter a further level of scandal now that this is all public knowledge."

"Considering what Miss Potter has already gone through, I'm sure one more bit of bother wouldn't have been too much to handle." Lucius shrugged in a nonchalant fashion.

"How did her death make you feel?" the tone of his question indicated that he expected Lucius to admit that he had been relieved.

"I was shocked," Lucius replied honestly, "and I was deeply saddened. There may have been little affection between us, but the sudden absence of someone who had been a constant in my life for twenty years was a profound blow. I didn't sleep well, I barely ate."

"How touching." His voice was full of mistrust.

"Miss Potter can vouch for my condition, although I believe she has already done so."

"And what about your son? How do you suppose he feels about this situation, seeing as Miss Potter is one of his classmates?"

"I would hardly call my son and Miss Potter 'mates'." Lucius drawled coolly. "Especially as they could barely stand to be in the same room, although Miss Potter tolerated it admirably well when she had to."

"Still, do you know what he thinks?"

"I have not seen my son since June." Hi response was brief and to the point.

"That would be during the Battle of Hogwarts?"

"Yes, but it was only a fleeting glimpse. I last properly saw him at the ball held earlier in June, but even then it was only a brief conversation; as you can imagine I was somewhat more pleasantly engaged." A smirk flitted briefly across his face.

"And so there has been no chance meeting in Azkaban? As he is also branded with the Dark Mark, and therefore considered to be a high security prisoner, I would have thought that you would have been to communicate somehow." Clearly the wizard was not aware of the special provisions that Kathryn had negotiated.

"Had I seen him, I doubt that he would have spoken to me." Lucius' voice was tinged with the slightest amount of regret. "I can't imagine he is very pleased about the situation, but then again I don't really care."

"You do not care for your son's opinion?"

"At the moment I do not care for my son."

"And why would that be?" his questioner raised an eyebrow at this statement. "Surely you share the same views, as you are incarcerated for very similar reasons."

"I'm afraid you are much mistaken."

"Well, would you please elaborate as to the main reason?"

"He has repeatedly tried to grievously injure the person I most care about."

"That would be Miss Potter, yes?" all eyes turned on Kathryn, wanting to see some kind of shocked response.

"Yes, it would." The whole room erupted in furious whispers and Lucius paused a moment until people calmed down. "He repeatedly attempted to injure her during their tenure at Hogwarts, and during the final battle tried to use both the Cruciatus Curse and the Killing Curse upon her." The portly wizard's eyes immediately flashed to where Kathryn was sitting.

"Can you vouch for this, Miss Potter?"

"I can." Her voice echoed round the room in the hush that had descended.

"And am I right in assuming that you shall be contributing this to Draco Malfoy's trial."

"Yes, I shall."

"Most illuminating." He leaned back in his chair and motioned for someone else to continue.

"Mr Malfoy," the man with the wire-rimmed glasses and shock of white hair was the one who spoke, "You have just said that yours and your son's views differ considerably. How so? You both bear the Dark Mark, as my esteemed colleague noted, so how can you even claim to have different opinions when you subscribe to the same ideology?"

Harry noted that his sister was shifting nervously on the end of her seat, and wondered if this too was a question to which she longed to hear the answer.

"I'll admit that in my youth, my views were very similar to those of my son. But that was quite some time ago, and where some of my former associates have grown more fanatical with age, I find that I have not." Truth be told, Harry was also quite interested to hear what he had to say.

"Why did you not act upon this shift in opinion?"

"The Dark Mark meant a lifetime of service, and when the Dark Lord returned I was not about to sacrifice all I had gained."

"So you saw yourself as opposed to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named upon his return five years ago?" Kathryn decided that she quite liked this wizard's style of question, as it gave Lucius scope to properly explain.

"Not then, not so much as I do now. I was brought up to believe in my superiority over, well, most people. It was this idea that originally attracted me to the Death Eaters, as well as the promise of power; another thing I had been told I deserved from the moment I could understand the concept." Looking around the room, Harry could see that people were hanging on his very word, desperate to have this glimpse inside the mind of such a man.

"How would you describe your son's opinions on the issue? What attracted him to the Dark Lord's cause?"

"He too was attracted by the promise of power," Lucius explained, "but in the past five years I believe he has been more influenced by his late Aunt. I cannot personally vouch for it, but I believe that there are others who will be able to accurately describe his attitude to Muggle-born students. I merely heard his accounts of school; I was not there to witness his behaviour."

"When you refer to his late Aunt, you mean Bellatrix Lestrange?"

"Yes. I believe he picked up some more of his fanatical traits from her." Hermione, now wondering if she would be called upon to bear witness to Draco's behaviour, could well agree with that statement.

"You consider yourself blameless?"

"No, I do not. I instilled in him the same beliefs that my father gave to me. It is only in these past two years that I have been introduced to the view from the other side of the fence."

"You cannot expect us to believe that you credit your change of heart solely to the influence of Miss Potter!" the wizard scoffed, his eyebrows raised.

"No, I do not credit it solely to her. I was weary of the killing, of the pain we sought to cause." He sighed. "I have seen enough of it to last me ten lifetimes."

"So what do you credit to Miss Potter?"

"I was brought up to believe, and have lived most of my life on the premise that everything has a price; be it a law or a human being. I began all of this with the belief that I need only find Miss Potter's specific price, and the rewards for such information would be great indeed." Glancing across at his sister's face again, Harry noted that the implacable mask had returned. "What can I say? She was young; I thought she would cave easily."

"Mr Malfoy, does this explanation actually have a point?"

"My apologies, yes, it does." Lucius realised that he had been rambling slightly, but that was more a distraction as he worked out what he wanted to say. "As I have already said, I have never before failed to get what I want from someone. Yet here I was faced with a young woman who had no second thoughts about putting herself through such torment; all for the sake of her friends. At first I mocked her for such grand delusions of nobility, but I do believe that I gradually came to respect her for the obviously high esteem in which she held her friends." Kathryn's face softened for just a moment as he spoke and Harry was sure that he saw happiness burning in her eyes.

"Just out of curiosity, what was your opinion of Miss Potter before all this began?" the eyes behind the spectacles scrutinised Lucius closely, as if searching for a vain of falsehood running through his explanations.

"I'd never bought in to the whole 'children who lived' euphoria," he shrugged, "nor did I believe that they were somehow 'chosen'. In my mind, both she and her brother were simply an attention-seeking inconvenience."

"An obstacle to your cause?" the wizard suggested.

"Yes, I suppose they were. But over the past two years I have watched her take the weight of our world on her shoulders, as well as the burden of deceiving her friends about our relationship, and walk calmly towards her death. For the sake of everyone she loved, she was willing to surrender her life, and for that I can do nothing but respect her."

"A very profound act," the wizard's white hair shook as he nodded, "what did it mean to you? What did it teach you?"

"It is hard to explain what it taught me, but if anything I believe that night was when she showed me the true meaning of nobility." There was silence throughout the great room as everyone waited for him to continue. "They may have been lauded for years as the 'chosen ones', but it was only at that moment that I began to believe it."

"And when you discovered that she was alive, what was it that made you lie? Did you not care for the potential ramifications were it discovered that you lied? We all know that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did not take kindly to liars."

"I did not care."

"I find that hard to believe." The wizard shook his head. "After all the time and money you had invested, I find it unlikely that you could so easily abandon your cause. However, I do find it easy to believe that it would have been very simple for you to choose to back the winning side. Is that what you thought?" he asked. "When you found she was alive, did you make that decision to lie in order to save your own skin?"

"No. I lied for her, no one else."

"Why? You could have brought things to an end in your Master's favour."

"I had watched her die once, I was not about to do it again."

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A/N - Her outfit is inspired by Jean-Paul Gaultier's current Haute Couture collection....as will several other outfits!!!


	83. Chapter 83

A/N - MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!! I promised myself I would finish this chapter in time for Christmas and here it is, just in the nick of time!!!

Many thanks to all those who have added/alerted/reviewed over the past few weeks, and indeed to all of you who have been reading this over the year. Many thanks also to JV and Luce for the lovely reviews you left me earlier in the month, I really wanted to reply and say thanks but I couldn't!!!

Anyway, here, Lucius has to answer more difficult questions...but has some very interesting answers to give. I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, so I hope you all enjoy it.

As always, please read, enjoy and leave me a nice review to make my Christmas great!!! Happy Reading for 2010, and I'll see you with Chapter 84 in the new year!!!

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His answer hung in the air for several minutes, the entire room taking such a statement in. eyes flicked between the seriousness of his expression and the tiniest of smiles that was now gracing Kathryn's face.

"Very well." Apparently this was an acceptable answer. The next person to speak was the witch with the long white hair. She placed her pince-nez on the end of her nose and regarded Lucius for a few moments before speaking.

"I assume that this was the same reason you decided to abscond from the battlefield with her?" she asked, her quill poised ready to take notes.

"It was." Lucius gave her a curt nod.

"But she could have been treated just as well at Hogwarts; she could have spoken for you then and there. Why cause further controversy by spiriting her away to your Manor?"

"I know that would have peen perfectly well cared for at Hogwarts, but you are wrong in your assumption that she could have spoken in my defence." He was emphatic in his disagreement with her comment.

"How so?" she raised her perfectly shaped eyebrows, somewhat surprised at his nerve.

"You have seen her injuries," he explained, "by the time she was in any fit state to speak I would have already been carted off to Azkaban like the rest. The Order of the Phoenix would not have paused to listen to me."

"So you thought that escaping with Miss Potter would be a more effective strategy?"

"No, I took her for purely selfish reasons." He drawled. "I knew that I could not remain free for very long, given the circumstances, and I just wanted those last few hours with her."

"When you were discovered, a packed travel bag was found in your study." She read from her notes. "Surely you cannot expect this court to believe that thoughts of your own escape did not cross your mind?"

"Of course I considered such an option, only a fool wouldn't have."

"So why didn't you follow through with your plan?"

"She had once told me that she was determined to face whatever consequences arose from our actions, even though she knew what would be at stake." He explained patiently. Kathryn could remember the day he was recalling, her comments that morning seeming quite prophetic a few months on. "When she was prepared to go through such an ordeal, I could do nothing so cowardly as to run."

"But if you had run, there would have been no reason to suspect Miss Potter of anything untoward. You could have spared her this hardship completely."

"I didn't want to make her lover to a fugitive."

"It would have kept your secret."

"Such things rarely stay secret for long; her absences would have been noticed. In any case, measures had already put in place that would have eventually raised the issue."

"What measures?"

"I made her the guardian of my estate; put all of my wealth at her disposal. More than a few questions would have been raised by such an act."

"And just exactly when did she discuss these future possibilities with you?"

"It wasn't really a discussion, just an offhand comment."

"When?"

"Before Easter," he paused, casting his mind back, "the day after the Quidditch international against Italy. Miss Potter had joined the Minister, my son and myself for dinner and she had stayed the night."

"You dared have her there when your son was present?"

"He was otherwise occupied."

"With what?"

"His girlfriend." Lucius' replay was deadpan, and across the courtroom Kathryn saw Pansy Parkinson flush bright pink.

"I see." She cleared her throat slightly, shuffling her papers before continuing. "So, what exactly did Miss Potter have to say about your relationship?"

"If I remember it correctly," he glanced over at Kathryn, "she described it as the one thing for which she would never be forgiven."

"Quite prophetic."

"I hope not."

"Well, I do believe that time will be the test of that." She sounded very sceptical as to the likelihood of such an event. "More importantly, how did you explain her presence to your son, and to others, when you were together in public?"

"I had no need to explain to my son. She had been my guest for dinner and her remaining for a drink after dinner was nothing out of the ordinary. When he came into the room, all my son saw was his father and his guest."

"So when your son interrupted you, what time was it?"

"It was probably about half past eleven."

"Surely that would be considered a bit late for such a dinner guest to still be in your company?"

"Of course it was, had anybody else known about it. As far as her friends were concerned, she was dining with the Minister."

"And your son did not mention it at all?"

"If he had any concerns, he kept them to himself."

"What of your trips abroad? You were hardly out of the public eye when you went away? I cannot understand how questions were not raised." She did look completely baffled, as did many other members of the Wizengamot.

"People saw what they wanted to see," he shrugged, "what we wanted to show them."

"What did you tell the people you met while away?"

"Well, Miss Potter is a well known Quidditch fan, so her appearance at international matches was no surprise."

"But you also told other attendees that she was there as your guest."

"Yes."

"And this was just accepted?"

"It was. In the first instance, it was veiled as a kind gesture. The second time round it was the perfect apology for my son's actions the previous summer. People had no reason not to believe what we told them as we did not parade around like a pair of hormonal teenagers." Harry, listening intently along with the rest of the room, supposed that this was right. She may have often been on his arm, but they had kept themselves strictly in check.

"Can we assume that this was Miss Potter's wish as well?" she turned her cool gaze towards Kathryn, who met it with a dignified one of her own.

"Well, I can't imagine she was too happy during the trip to Dubai." He drawled. "I was forcing her into a situation where she had to smile and maintain the illusion for more than just her friends."

"Yes, I can see how that would make anyone uncomfortable."

"But on further occasions I believe that she understood the necessity of concealment. Indeed, she reminded me of it on more than one occasion."

"So you reached a point where the masquerade was no longer appealing?" she surmised, looking intently at him.

"I did." His response was forthright and honest.

"Why was that?"

"It was frustrating for the obvious reasons," he shrugged, "I could not see her just because I wanted to, there had to be a half-plausible reason for my doing so. I could only watch as other men eyed her up and flirted. I could not claim her as my own."

"I cannot imagine that any attempt to denote her as yours would have gone down well."

"No, but I did find my ways." He smirked slightly at the thought of everything he had done.

"Yes," she nodded, understanding exactly what he meant, "all the gifts you gave her would have shown she was yours if people had paid attention."

"Yes, but it was still frustrating. It did make me consider the possibility of defection during those final few months." He confessed, stunning even Kathryn.

"Really? That is most illuminating." The members of the Wizengamot were quietly murmuring amongst themselves after this admission. "Why, might I ask, did you not follow through on this matter?"

"By that time it was too close to the end-game for any desertion to be of effect." He explained. "Even if I had gotten away with it, it is unlikely that the Order would have accepted the move as genuine, even if I'd had Miss Potter to speak for me. It would have been seen as merely a last minute attempt to save my hide."

"Did you discuss this with Miss Potter at all?"

"No."

"Why not? Surely she would have been well placed to soften the ground for such an announcement?"

"They would have sooner thought her under a curse than actually giving me support." He replied pessimistically. "After all, she had spent nearly two years pretending to do nothing but humour me. Such a quick change of mind would not have been accepted by anyone."

"Therefore you decided to remain silent on the matter?"

"Yes, it proved to be a smart decision considering June's events."

"It did, didn't it?" she paused for a moment, and then asked him exactly what Kathryn had on their final evening together. "What would you have done if the tables had been turned?"

"Had the Dark Lord been totally victorious, Miss Potter and her brother would not have survived." His response was expressionless, stating the simple fact.

"Well let us say that your Master was victorious, but that victory did not entail the death of either Potter." As soon as she had spoken, Kathryn saw the face of every other person in the room grow pensieve as they considered the options themselves. "What would you have done?"

"Such a decision was far from my control, it would have depended on how merciful the Dark Lord was inclined to be."

"So let's say that he was tempted to let them live."

"Well, he would not have been willing to let them simply return to their friends and go on with their lives." He explained with a serious look on his face. "Even if they had failed to defeat him, he still would have been wary of the power and support they could wield against him."

"Considering your standing in the ranks of the Death Eaters, would you have advised him on such a subject?"

"Well, I believe that in such a case the Dark Lord would have preferred a more unusual form of punishment and control. Had I the opportunity, I would have suggested that the boy be returned to his friends and the girl kept as insurance."

"Kept?"

"Yes. A prize, if you will, for one of the Dark Lord's servants. Coupled with a guarantee that she would remain unharmed if there was no further rebellion, I do believe such a situation would have forced obedience from even the most determined members of the Order."

"And where did you imagine that you would figure into such a plan?"

"I promised her that should such a situation arise, I would do everything in my power to keep her safe."

"What makes you so confident that she would have come into your possession, as it were?" she sounded quite offended at the suggestion that that a person could be reduced to mere chattel.

"Well, if her survival was key to the agreement, I cannot imagine that she would have survived for very long if left in the depraved hands of Antonin Dolohov or Rabastan Lestrange." Kathryn shuddered at the thought of such a fate. "Indeed, I was probably the only one of my former associates that would have kept her in an acceptable degree of comfort and safety. Taking that into account, I would have been the logical choice. And I suppose that after the loss of my wife, the Dark Lord might have considered someone so young and beautiful to be the perfect reward. But, such as it is, we have not had to face such circumstances."

"Mercifully. And you discussed this with Miss Potter?"

"Not explicitly, I merely promised to protect her by any necessary means. We did not discuss the future in such minute detail; we had so little time as it was. It did not do to dwell on the potential unhappiness ahead." Kathryn could remember their conversation, hidden in the gardens outside the castle. She had wanted that night to last forever; not wanting to go back to change things, but neither had she desired to confront the uncertainty of what was to come.

"And what about now, do you still feel as obliged to protect her as you did then?"

"I do, yes." He confessed, clearly uncomfortable with being so emotionally exposed. "Although I do believe she wishes I wasn't."

"So even though you did not have to take such drastic steps to ensure her safety, what have you done since July?"

"I am no fool," he stated bluntly, "I knew that if she and her brother were to emerge victorious, it would be nigh-on impossible to conceal our relationship. It was also no great strain to imagine the public backlash of such a revelation. It was pretty obvious to me that I was likely to be shielded from all this fury by the walls of Azkaban, as well as my son, whilst Miss Potter would be left to deal with the entire situation on her own."

"She seems to have managed fairly well."

"Yes, but at the time I had no idea how her brother and friends would react. For all I knew they could have turned her out of their house. In making her guardian of my estate I wished to give her somewhere that she could escape to; where she would have a legal right to privacy within its boundaries."

"Your plan appears to have worked quite well." To Kathryn's eyes, it looked like the woman was ever so slightly impressed by how much time he had spent considering her wellbeing above his own.

"So it may seem," he sighed, "but I fear that I have unintentionally created a prison."

"Has Miss Potter given any indication that she dislikes the arrangement?"

"No, she told me only yesterday that she is happy in the house." The reasons for his questions the previous evening now seemed very clear to Kathryn. "But after a life spent in hiding, I do not wish to be the cause of further seclusion. I believe she has earned the right to her freedom, despite what anyone else may think." A tear threatened to fall from the corner of her eye, but she held it back; discreetly brushing it away as she flicked her hair out of her eyes.

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy." She looked strangely pleased with what she had learned, as if, maybe just a little, he had gone up in her estimation.

"Now, Mr Malfoy," the gentleman with the bushy moustache and eyebrows took over, fixing Lucius with a piercing stare, "although your activities with Miss Potter are of great importance to the overall judgement, I believe that we now must focus on your activities as a Death Eater." Though the movement was slight, she could see Lucius' posture droop. He had never told her about what he had done as a Death Eater, and she had never asked. She didn't really want to know, preferring to remain ignorant of that particular part of his life. She knew that he would have participated; he wouldn't have still been alive if he had declined.

"Yes, I suppose we must." Lucius' voice was resigned, a far cry from the confident tone he had used moments earlier.

"You do not sound like you look forward to the prospect." Kathryn wanted to hex him for being so tedious as to state the complete obvious.

"No, I do not."

"Why?"

"Because I do not look back on my actions with pride." This statement buoyed her hopes a little, but the look on the wizard's face told her that he was not likely to be easily convinced.

"And others would?"

"I can name a few."

"Well, we shall get to that later," he paused briefly to cast a glance down at his papers, "firstly, I wish to know the extent of your involvement in the following events. For a start, the murder of Amelia Bones."

"That was carried out by the Dark Lord himself." Lucius affirmed what had always been suspected by the Order.

"And what of Emmeline Vance?"

"She was killed by Bellatrix Lestrange and Antonin Dolohov."

"Any particular reason why?"

"She was a member of the Order of the Phoenix. That was reason enough for the Dark Lord." Nobody spoke, the entire room silent and waiting.

"I see." He made a quick note on his papers. "Now, there are conflicting reports as to your presence in the Department of Mysteries five years ago. Could you please confirm if you were involved?"

"I was tasked with leading that little expedition, so yes, I was there."

"Why were you placed in charge of such an undertaking?"

"It needed to be done with care and finesse. We had to wait for Potter and his sister to get the prophecy, not just blunder in sending hexes left, right and centre." His voice took on a tone similar to that of Snape when he was addressing Neville. "I knew my way around the Ministry and since most of those involved had not long been out of Azkaban, someone with a level head was needed to stop them running completely rampant."

"You call what they did restrained?"

"Well, no one died." He shrugged. "That is at least one sign of moderation."

"So how, might I ask, did you manage to escape whilst others were captured?"

"I was engaged in a duel with Sirius Black and, when I was momentarily disabled, Miss Potter threw herself in front of her Godfather to protect him from on of Bellatrix's curses." Several people made sounds of admiration at this information, their eyes flicking towards Sirius. "Obviously he was distracted and I used the opportunity to retreat."

"This was the first time you encountered Miss Potter, wasn't it?"

"No, I had met her the previous summer, but only in passing."

"A most brave act," he nodded in approval, "what did you think of her?"

"I was most impressed," he conceded, "she appeared to be calm, despite the situation, and she stood her ground as well as the most seasoned member of the Auror Office."

"Duly noted. Now, moving on, were you involved with the incident at the Millennium Bridge?"

"I was, yes." Hands were clapped to mouths in horror. That particular atrocity had happened just before the start of their seventh year and London had been rocked by the apparent failure of a structure that was not even a decade old. Thirty three Muggles had lost their lives that day, overcome by the unusually strong currents that had swept through the Thames that day. "The three Lestranges, Dolohov, Thorfin Rowle, Fenrir Greyback and the Carrows were also involved."

"To what purpose was such violence?"

"It was meant to demonstrate our power, and to strike fear into the hearts of witches and wizards around the country. If we were willing to visit such devastation upon Muggles, then there was no telling what we would do to those who openly opposed us." It sounded incredibly cold, but it was the truth.

"I see." He made another quick note before continuing. "What can you tell us about your involvement in the sporadic slayings that have plagued our lives for the past four years? I am particularly interested in the past two years."

"I cannot deny that I was involved in some of the killings," he spoke slowly, choosing his words with care, "but in the past two years my involvement has been very limited."

"How so, if you were such a prominent member of his inner circle?"

"I preferred to leave the killing to those who enjoyed it." his voice was full of distaste. "I participated when I was required to do so, but it was a far cry from the involvement of my youth."

"According to those who were aware of your activities as a Death Eater, you were notoriously renowned for your torture skills. From what Miss Potter has told us, you have not lost your touch, so what was the reason behind this sudden change in activity?"

"Upon the Dark Lord's return, I was the only member of his inner circle that had a relatively untarnished reputation." He tried to do his best not to sound arrogant as he spoke, knowing it was difficult considering the subject matter. "Whilst I had been impetuous and power-hungry in my youth, I was now well-connected and powerful. I had spent over a decade building a reputation that the Dark Lord realised he could use. He had plenty of younger followers to do his dirty work, leaving me to ensure that, when the time came, the Ministry would easily fall."

"Like a well played game of chess, am I right?"

"Exactly. If you wish to use the chess analogy, you could say that I had a piece in every department."

"Every department?" he looked furtively around him, as if expecting immediately see a traitor within the ranks of the Wizengamot.

"Well, all except the Auror Office and the Minister's Office."

"Why not those two? Surely they were of vital importance?"

"It would have been impossible to successfully insert someone into the Auror Office, not when half of them were members of the Order and had Alastor Moody waiting in the wings to assist them." Seated near the end of the row, Kingsley, Tonks and Moody all took this as a compliment to their efforts. It was quite pleasing to know that the Death Eaters had considered them incorruptible. "As for the Minister's Office, well, my position of influence was considered more than adequate."

"I see. And just who were these people that you had positioned on your board? Death Eaters?"

"Oh no, a Death Eater was far too easy to identify." He drawled, again taking on a tone so similar to Snape's.

"Apart from yourself, of course?"

"I suppose so, but that did take me many years to achieve. The people I used varied from department to department. Some were sympathetic to the Dark Lord's cause and others were," he paused, searching for the right word, "coerced."

"You mean threatened?"

"After a fashion. It doesn't take much to force compliance when a person's family was placed in a position of potential jeopardy." Kathryn shivered at that last remark, her insides seeming to ice over. She knew that, out of all the people he had threatened, she was probably the only one who had refused to submit.

"What would be an example of this 'jeopardy'?" he asked curiously, the entire courtroom eager to know the answer.

"For those with children, the mention of one name was generally enough to elicit the desired effect."

"And that was?"

"Fenrir Greyback." Instead of the usual gasps, this time there were shrieks from around the courtroom; most women looking utterly horrified. Fenrir Greyback's penchant for young flesh was well known, and gave good cause for him to be well feared.

"I don't know what people are so horrified about," Kathryn hissed in Harry's ear, "it's not like such threats were uncommon." Indeed, such threats were why Greyback was so feared.

"What has become of those you had in your service, as it were? Are they still at large in the Ministry?"

"No, prior to the beginning of this trial, I agreed to cooperate and name those that had successfully infiltrated the Ministry." Now that he thought of it, those dark days with absolutely no knowledge of how she fared seemed a very long time ago.

"So all you little chess pieces are now removed from the board?"

"Not all." Fudge's eyes widened in shock, apparently unaware that support for Voldemort could still be lingering in the Ministry.

"Then I would not call that cooperation."

"I have given the names of all Voldemort's supporters that were strategically placed within the Ministry. I have chosen to withhold the names of those who agreed to cooperate under duress."

"Why?"

"Because they have no right to be persecuted simply for trying to protect their loved ones." There were several nods of admiration and agreement from around the room.

"But what if you were offered unconditional freedom in return for those names?"

"I would decline the offer." He replied firmly, a definite tone of finality in his voice. "I have seen the suffering caused by accusations of treason when comparatively little has been done wrong. I would not wish it upon anyone." No one in the room was under any illusion about whom he was speaking of. Kathryn felt a flush creep into her cheeks as hundreds of eyes flicked towards her for the thousandth time.

"Very well. Now, moving on, you mentioned that your involvement in certain aspects of Death Eater activity over the past two years had been limited. What alibi can you offer that will prove that you were absent?" Lucius took some time before answering and, by the look on his questioner's face, it was no struggle to tell that he hoped that the man before him would fail to provide a watertight excuse.

"Like I said before, I had spent the years after the Dark Lord's fall cultivating a certain reputation. Upon his return, the Dark Lord realised the potential benefits of such a position and sought to use it accordingly. Of course, such a standing was only possible if my connection to the Dark Lord was thought to be long forgotten." Even Sirius, in all his ire, could not deny that this made perfect sense. "Thus, whilst the Death Eaters were about their campaign of intimidation, I was presenting a respectable face to the world."

"And therefore you were able to have the ear of anyone you wanted, Ministry official or otherwise." He finished, raising a questioning eyebrow, as if daring Lucius to disagree.

"Yes, and it worked."

"What about your son?" he asked curiously. "I'm surprised you managed to hold onto your reputation after the events of his sixth year at Hogwarts."

"Yes, it was a testing summer," he mused, "but he did not bear the Dark Mark then. It was easy enough to claim that he had been intimidated."

"When did he take the Dark Mark?"

"That summer, just before he went back to school."

"After the Ministry had cleared him?"

"Naturally."

"I still find it hard to believe that people would remain so trusting of you after such an episode."

"I must admit that I was also surprised. But Minister Fudge was quick to intervene and speak in support of my son. In turn, I was happy to lend my full support in his bid to re-take the office of Minister." Fudge looked like he wanted to sink through his chair, his eyes fixed to the floor as Lucius spoke.

"So you traded political favours for assistance?"

"No, the assistance was given out of friendship and I merely repaid the kindness with the right words whispered in the right ears. People were already incensed that something so catastrophic could happen with a former Auror at the helm, so it didn't take much to swing public opinion in favour of Minister Fudge. After all, nothing so calamitous had happened under his stewardship."

"Most interesting," he seemed to consider the point, his fingers stroking his moustache, "but to return to the original question, can you provide a suitable alibi for times you claim to have been absent from Death Eater activity?"

"On the whole, I think I can safely say that when there were major occurrences of Death Eater activity, I was otherwise engaged." Looking to her right, Kathryn and Dumbledore shared a knowing look.

"With Miss Potter?"

"Most of the time, yes."

"So, if I were to ask you where you were last summer when there were murders in Liverpool and Devon, what would you reply?"

"I was in Paris," he answered quickly, "in search of Miss Potter. I found her on the Friday afternoon; we had dinner that evening and then spent the night in her hotel. Those attacks were carried out in the early hours of Saturday morning and Miss Potter can confirm that I was still with her at that point."

"Was he, Miss Potter?" he asked in a clipped tone, turning his head to look upon her.

"Yes."

"How can you be certain that he was there in the early hours of the morning?"

"Because we were awake." Her face was serious as the grave as she gave her reply; fixing him with a cool stare.

"Very well. Now, Mr. Malfoy, why is it that your presence was not required in these situations? Indeed, I would have thought that the more experienced of his followers would have been most trusted to carry out such attacks?"

"Like I said before, with myself it was about maintaining a respectable image. Beyond that, such attacks were left to lower ranking Death Eaters in order to keep the more valued members of his circle, how should I put it," he paused for a moment, searching for a way to explain, "free, I suppose. After the fiasco in the Department of Mysteries, the Dark Lord could ill afford having his best lieutenants apprehended."

"But surely that was not always the case?"

"The Dark Lord used the best when the situation merited such skill."

"Could you give an example of such a circumstance?"

"Aside from the murder of Emmeline Vance, the killing of Miss Potter's foster parents in France would qualify as such an example." He didn't really want to mention it, knowing how upset she had been about their deaths, but it was the most well known example he could think of.

"Ah yes," he nodded, remembering it well, "Miss Potter has already informed us that Bellatrix Lestrange was one of the Death Eaters involved. You informed her of this, yes?"

"I did."

"Who else was involved?"

"Her husband, Rodolphus, and I believe they took Yaxley along for good measure."

"Did you know this was going to happen?" he asked inquisitively.

"Not essentially." Kathryn froze in her seat at the sound of such an ambiguous answer, not wanting to believe that he could have lied to her.

"And what does that mean?"

"I knew that the Dark Lord wished to strike a blow to the Potters," he explained carefully, "but I never found out how, at least, not until I read the papers."

"So you had no way of preventing such an atrocity?"

"Lamentably, no." It was impossible for those observing to overlook the regret in his voice.

"But had you the opportunity, would you have warned Miss Potter? Even if it risked exposing your relationship?"

"If I could have done anything to prevent the pain such an act caused her, I would have risked more than our secrecy." Looking at his sister, all Harry could see in her eyes was adoration.

"That's the man I know." She whispered with a smile as the wizard indicated that he was finished with his questions.

"Mr. Malfoy," the next member of the Wizengamot to speak was the woman with the kindly face, "before we progress any further, I should like to raise the issue of your attitude towards those of Muggle descent."

"And what should you like to ask me?" he was perfectly polite, knowing that he had to tread carefully in his remarks on the subject.

"To start with the facts, you are the head of one of the oldest Pureblood families in Britain, are you not?"

"That is correct."

"And as such you were seen as a leading figure in Pureblood society, a section of the Wizarding population that believes that those who are pure-of-blood are naturally superior to those with partial or total Muggle heritage."

"I was what society expected me to be," he shrugged in an unconcerned fashion, "surely it was no great surprise that I behaved the way I did."

"Did you never question your beliefs?"

"I believed what I was brought up to believe. From a young age my parents sought to instil in me the values that had been a cornerstone of their lives. It was only when I went to Hogwarts that I met people of Muggle lineage, but by then I was already secure in the belief that I was inherently superior." It was a cold, clinical analysis of his childhood, but he knew that it was true.

"But didn't that make it hard for you to find friends?"

"No," he shook his head, "I knew who I was supposed to be friends with, and who I was supposed to avoid."

"So who were you friends with?"

"Well, back then Slytherin was full of the old families. Black, Lestrange, Nott, McNair, Flint, Avery." He rattled off a very familiar list of names. "You name them; they were there at one point or another."

"And you were friends with them?"

"They were friends with me." He corrected firmly. "I was from the wealthiest, most influential family; destined to be the next Slytherin golden boy." Looking to her right, Kathryn saw Sirius' lip curl in disgust, obviously ignoring the hint of cynicism that pervaded his tone.

"Did you fulfil these expectations?"

"I was Quidditch captain for three years, a prefect and then Head Boy in my seventh year. Beyond those, I achieved Oustandings in most of my OWL's and NEWT's. My parents expected great things of their son and I was not about to disappoint."

"I can see how any parent would e proud of such achievements," she nodded in an understanding way, "but were they proud that you lent your support to the Dark Lord?"

"They were pleased because they saw me taking a stand to protect their ideals of Wizarding society."

"And yet, after such time dedicated to the preservation of your way of life, you now find yourself in a relationship with a half-blood witch who has famously defended everything you sought to destroy."

"It's quite ironic, isn't it?" he commented dryly, wishing that she would just get to the point.

"Somewhat, yes," she agreed, "but what about her friends?"

"What of them?"

"Are they welcome in your house?"

"Yes." He knew that she wanted him to question why they could possibly be unwelcome, but he was not about to give her the satisfaction.

"Even those that you would have once considered beneath your society? Like Miss Hermione Granger, for example?" two spaces away from Harry, Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her seat when her name was mentioned.

"At this point in time Miss Granger spends more time at my house that I do." He replied with a smirk. "So of course, she is welcome. If you are in any doubt, I suggest that you ask her yourself."

"All in due course." She made a quick note. "And do you find her to be inferior, as you were brought up to believe?"

"No, I do not." His answer was quick and assured. "She is exceedingly intelligent and has always been civil towards me, though I have done little to deserve it." Hermione flushed crimson at such praise.

"Miss Granger," the witch turned to look at Hermione, "is this true? Do you feel welcome at Mr. Malfoy's home?"

"Yes," her voice was quiet in the vast chamber, but everyone could tell that she was answering honestly, "I mean, at first things were a bit awkward."

"Understandably."

"But now it is somewhere where I am quite happy to spend my time." She finished, flashing a quick smile at Kathryn.

"And do such feelings reflect your views on your friend's relationship with Mr. Malfoy." She asked, deviating slightly from her original question.

"I believe that it is Mr. Malfoy that you are meant to be questioning, not me." Hermione replied in her familiar, matter-of-fact tone; apparently unconcerned that she was addressing a member of the Wizengamot and not one of her friends. "If you wish to ask me such questions, do so in a more official capacity." She knew it was an open invitation for them to officially question her but, after everything Kathryn sacrificed for them, she would be glad of the opportunity to publicly defend her friend. She sat back down calmly, her gaze boldly fixed on the Wizengamot; challenging the woman to disagree with her cool logic.

"We may yet, Miss Granger, we may yet." With a curt nod to Fudge, she indicated that she was finished.

"With your approval Minister," the next words came from the gentlemen with tightly curled hair and a quizzical brow, "I should like to call Severus Snape forward to bear witness to the character of Mr. Malfoy." From where he was sat next to Dumbledore, Snape betrayed no surprise at such a request.

"Certainly," Fudge nodded his assent, "though perhaps now would be an appropriate time to take a brief pause in proceedings?" the members of the Wizengamot all signalled their agreement. "Twenty minutes."

With that, the Wizengamot stood and retired to their chambers, leaving the assembled onlookers to do as they pleased. Some left in search of refreshment, whilst other stood to stretch out stiff limbs. All were talking furiously, eager to discuss what they had heard with their friends. After waiting a few moments for the room to empty slightly, Kathryn stood and walked down towards the chair where Lucius was still chained. However absorbing their conversations, people still found the time to watch her as she went.

"Do I really need to ask Scrimgeour?" she inclined her head towards the chains that still held him in place.

"There are others present." He reminded her, casting a nervous glance at the benches around them.

"And you are here to prevent anything untoward." She countered smoothly. "Really, what do you expect him to do?"

"Very well." Casting a final, wary look around the room, he waved his wand and the chains vanished. People gasped and murmured as he stood, stretching out his aching arms and sweeping a hand through his hair.

"You did well." She told him quietly, taking his hand in hers.

"I'm surprised you can look at me after some of that." He replied bitterly, not meeting her gaze.

"It did not shock me," she reassured him, "after all, I was there."

"Still, I do not like to speak of the way I treated you."

"It was painful to hear," she stepped closer, lacing her fingers with his, "but it was necessary." He did not reply, but his eyes did finally meet hers; staring into their green depths with a pained expression.

"Listen," she told him firmly, but softly, touching her hand to his cheek, "you showed them the man I know, and I could have asked for nothing better." Finally, a glimmer of a smile played across his face. That was all he needed to hear.

Laying one hand behind her head, he pulled her towards him; kissing her soundly, without a care for the hundreds of eyes that watched their every move. For a moment, in the middle of a room full of people who would wish them ruin, there was peace.


	84. Chapter 84

A/N - Happy New Year!! I hope you all had a good one. My midnight was spent in front of a country mansion, knee-deep in snow, with a bottle of very nice Champagne and my friends. Needless to say there was inspiration a-plenty for my Christmas chapter(s). Anywa, here is Chapter 84. You get to hear what comments Snape and Dumbledore have to offer, and I shall say no more lest I spoil it for you!!

Those of you who are fastidious about the timeline of events in JKR's books will notice that I have taken a few liberties and altered things to suit my vision of things in the story. Juat to give you a ballpark figure (but I've given enough detail for you to be able to do the maths!), I imagine Lucius to be around 42/43.....which I know is technically wrong, but hey, it's called artistic licence for a reason!!

Oh, and as a side note, Chapters 1 to 10 are now fully revised and updated...take a look for the changes!

As always, have a good read and let me know what you think (reviews do make me write faster, _honestly_) but most importantly, enjoy!!

* * *

Their twenty minutes, however, did not last long. People began to filter back in, taking their seats in anticipation of the tale that was to come from the notorious Hogwarts Professor of Potions.

"This won't be too bad, will it?" she whispered as Lucius sat back down.

"That depends on what they ask." He shrugged, trying to keep an optimistic face.

"We can only hope," she smiled down at him, "I imagine the rest of them will have their chance to speak before Fudge adjourns for the day." She nodded her head up at the Wizengamot's benches. "I'll see you then." Without replying, he simply took her hand a pressed his lips to it; finally releasing it with a sigh and giving her a lingering look as she walked away.

Instead of returning to her seat, however, she walked casually down the courtroom to where Snape was sitting with Dumbledore and McGonagall.

"Good morning Professor Dumbledore," she nodded politely, "Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape."

"Good morning to you too Miss Potter." McGonagall replied, albeit in a slightly stiff voice. Kathryn supposed that she was still having a hard time forgiving her betrayal.

"I see the information I provided you with on Saturday has proved useful." Dumbledore smiled meaningfully.

"Yes, it has. Although I didn't actually mention it to Lucius."

"I had an inkling he was already aware of the connection, but it was you that I felt needed the hope such information would provide."

"Thank you." She smiled again, flattered that he would even think about her needs after all she had done. "And it seems that you were quite prophetic in your predictions for today Professor," she turned to look at Snape, "I look forward to your comments with great interest."

"I'm sure you do." He made to walk towards the podium where she had stood the previous week, only to find her at his side as she returned to her seat. She kept very close to him, their shoulders almost touching, and when she spoke it was so only he could hear.

"Will I like what you say?" she asked quietly. Snape took his time in replying, considering his answer for several moments as they walked. To those that watched, they looked quite the odd pair; both of them with their black hair and black clothes that billowed out behind them as they walked.

"Let's just say that you may be pleasantly surprised." He answered as they drew level with her seat. She simply smiled in response and walked up the steps towards her seat, leaving Snape to continue on.

"What was that about?" Harry asked immediately as she sat down. Rom, Hermione and Ginny all looked equally curious.

"Just talking." She shrugged in an unconcerned fashion.

"Looked more like you were plotting something." Ron chipped in, keeping his voice low. "You should've seen people's faces."

"No, just discussing what he was going to say." She whispered back as the Wizengamot began to file in.

"Careful," Hermione cautioned, nodding her head towards Fudge, "if they hear about that they'll do their best to get you for trying to subvert the course of justice."

"I think at this point, if he caught me at it, Fudge would try to put me away for littering." Any reply Hermione had to this comment was forgotten as the wizard with the quizzical brow cleared his throat and began to speak.

"As I mentioned prior to our brief recess, I wish to question Severus Snape as to the character of the accused. Professor," he turned towards Snape, "would you be so kind as to state your full name for the record?"

"Severus Snape."

"And your profession?"

"Professor of Potions at Hogwarts." Snape looked slightly offended to even be asked such a thing, as his profession was common knowledge.

"Thank you," he made a note before shuffling his papers into order, "now, Professor Snape, could you tell me how long you have known Miss Kathryn Potter?"

"I first met Miss Potter when she arrived to begin her studies at Hogwarts. That would be nearly six years ago."

"You knew her parents, yes?"

"I was in the same school year as her parents, and her Godfather." Kathryn silently hoped that the man would not bring up her mother, as she knew how much it would pain Snape to speak of her.

"And when did you first meet Lucius Malfoy?"

"When I was in my first year at Hogwarts. He was in his fourth year." Everyone in the room seemed to be waiting with bated breath for every answer, desperately wondering what things the notorious Potions Professor could reveal.

"How many years of friendship is that?"

"Twenty five."

"Just exactly how is it that you became friends?"

"I had a certain, er, talent that Lucius found most interesting."

"And what would that be?"

"Curses." Snape admitted reluctantly.

"How is it that a first year student would have such knowledge of curses to interest a fourth year?"

"I read." Snape replied dryly, already looking like he was losing his patience with the man. "I spent a lot of my childhood reading and it is no secret that I was fascinated with Dark Magic."

"I see." His quill scratched over paper in the relative silence of the courtroom. "So, aside from those Death Eaters either dead or in Azkaban, you are the one person who can claim the longest-standing friendship with Lucius Malfoy."

"Obviously." Snape drawled, giving him a look that would have silenced the entire student population of Hogwarts in three seconds flat.

"Therefore, it follows that you have more than the average insight into his life and the reasons behind his actions."

"Not essentially," Snape shook his head, taking pleasure in dashing the man's hopes that he would be able to reveal each of Lucius' many secrets, "Lucius has always been a private man, even with the closest of his friends."

"Well, let us hope that you shall be able to shed some light on the things that particularly concern me." Shuffling his papers around for a second time, he found the sheet he was looking for and then directed his gaze back to Snape. "Firstly, the matter of how Mr. Malfoy managed to conceal his dealings with Miss Potter for so long."

"The answer to that is relatively simple," Snape shrugged, "in-between the Dark Lord's first fall and his return five years ago, I assisted Lucius in bettering his Occlumency skills."

"Did he give you a reason for needing to do so?"

"No, but it does not take great intelligence to understand how such a skill could be of use to him."

"And what of Miss Potter? She too was able to conceal her activities from both Dumbledore and yourself; two great experts in Legilimency."

"Again, the answer is deceptively simple. Once it became apparent that both Miss Potter and her brother needed to be able to shield their minds from the Dark Lord's invasion, I was tasked with their tuition." Beside her, Harry shuddered at the memories of those exhausting sessions in Snape's offices. "In comparison with her brother, Miss Potter took to the discipline relatively well, and it appears that she was smart enough to practice hard."

"Excellent." Another mark was made on his notes.

"Indeed it was," Snape went on, "considering also that she managed to conceal the truth from the Dark Lord, despite being exhausted and severely injured. It was only seconds before his death that her shields failed, but by then it didn't matter." Snape recounted what Dumbledore and Lucius had told him of the events whilst he had been unconscious.

"Personally I think that speaks of great presence of mind." Had she been standing, Kathryn was sure that such praise from her former Professor would have knocked her off her feet.

"Well, moving on," if Snape's last comment had made any impression, he did not show it, "can you verify what Mr. Malfoy had told us about his activities as a Death Eater over the past five years?"

"What do you wish me to verify?"

"He told us that he became steadily less involved in what I suppose we would consider the traditional Death Eater activities, and took on more of a political role."

"Then yes, I can confirm what he told you."

"So Mr. Malfoy's involvement in attacks and killings orchestrated by the Death Eaters was minimal?"

"Yes. In the Dark Lord's mind, the killing could be left to the more inexperienced generation of followers; those that were eager to prove themselves. Orchestrating the fall of the Ministry required the contacts and finesse that only Lucius possessed."

"I see. On a slightly related point, Mr. Malfoy appears to have undergone some quite major shifts in attitude over the past two years at least. Being as you are such a close friend of his, did you not notice the shift in his behaviour?"

"Well, I was teaching for the most part, so our meetings were limited. But beyond that, I do not know what makes it so hard for you to comprehend that there was no perceptible shift in his general conduct."

"Surely something must have changed?"

"In all of his publicly visible interaction with Miss Potter, his conduct was that of a gentleman. Such behaviour was nothing out of the ordinary."

"But you had your suspicions, Miss Potter showed us last week how you tried to warn her off." He recalled the harsh words spoken between Kathryn and Snape at the ball.

"I could see past the politeness," he replied bluntly, "and I could tell he was interested for other, more questionable reasons. I could also see that she knew this, and was using it to her advantage. I merely sought to warn her off such a dangerous course."

"A touch too late though."

"Obviously." Snape drawled, glaring at the man. "Their real agenda was too well veiled by the supposedly vast differences between them."

"And so you did not pursue her further on the subject?"

"I knew that the Dark Lord wanted to make a move before the school year ended, and I assumed that she would be safe whilst within the school boundaries."

"You did not even raise the potential problem with Dumbledore, or any of the other members of staff?"

"I did not see the reason to create suspicion or fear when I had little proof to support my claims." Watching her former Professor intently, Kathryn realised how Snape's inaction had saved them from earlier discovery.

"Very well." His quill scratched as he made another note. "Miss Potter's memories show how they narrowly missed discovery when you called upon Mr. Malfoy at his Manor. From what she told us, you did see something whilst you were there."

"I saw a leg, and a face in a window, but not much else."

"And what did that lead you to conclude?"

"As I explained to other members of the Order, it meant one of several things. The first was that he had taken a Mistress."

"Did you consider that to be likely?"

"Not really, especially considering that there would have been evidence of a Mistress before Narcissa's death." Kathryn listened raptly, most curious to hear the full details of that particular conversation.

"And your other theories?"

"The second was that she was someone with whom he should not be involved, for whatever reason. The final hypothesis was that she was being handsomely paid for her services."

"A prostitute, you mean?"

"Yes."

"Which did you believe to be correct?"

"The second."

"Any particular reason?"

"Well, having known Lucius for so long, I was fairly confident in my assumption that he would consider it beneath him to pay for sex. Being an eligible bachelor once again meant that he had plenty of women practically queuing up to be the next Mrs Malfoy." Snape explained surprisingly patiently. "He had no cause to pay for what he could readily get. It had to be someone with whom he could not afford to be seen."

"And, as it turned out, you were right."

"Yes, although when we were discussing this, I had no idea that the person in question would be just a few floors above me."

"What did you think when you first discovered that Miss Potter was the woman you had glimpsed?" he scrutinised Snape closely, as if searching for any hint of falsehood.

"At first I did not know that it was her, the general conclusion was that he had abducted her from the battlefield in order to obtain what he had long desired." Snape revisited those harrowing, tumultuous hours after the final battle. "We found them together, in his bed, and jumped to all sorts of conclusions. However, it soon became very apparent that there was something wrong."

"What told you this?"

"She was on edge, but it seemed to be more due to our presence than what we assumed had happened to her. Beyond that, she bore no signs of injury and seemed to be relatively at ease in the Manor."

"Nevertheless, what did you first think when you saw them together?" he returned to the original point of the question. "Before you knew of their relationship?"

"All her life, she has been a symbol of hope, of everything that is pure and good in this world. The moment I walked through that door, I thought that no matter the victory we had just won, what he had done served to destroy it all."

"Did it shock you?"

"I had prepared myself for the eventuality, and it was no shock that Lucius would wish to possess the best; no matter the means in which he did it." Lucius could not deny that this statement was true.

"And right at that very moment," he asked, steepling his fingers together, "what did you imagine toe future to hold?"

"For Lucius, I thought he would never again see the light of day, not after what we thought he had done. As for Miss Potter, well, I thought that she would be destroyed."

"Destroyed?"

"For all we knew, in the course of the night she had gone to hell and back, only to be dragged off and ravaged when she was finally supposed to be safe. Thinking her innocent of the more carnal aspects of life, it was not hard to imagine the effect such an act would have. I did not think she would recover." Many people, Kathryn included, were stunned at the concern he seemed to have for his former student. However, it was only a select few who understood that this was inextricably linked to his love for her mother.

"Yet here she stands, defending him," if he had thought there to be a surprising level of concern on Snape's part, he did not choose to pick up on it, "what did you think about that?"

"At first I thought she was a fool," Snape shrugged unsympathetically, "deluding herself into believing that he cared for her when all he wanted was a way out of Azkaban." The comment stung, but both Lucius and Kathryn knew that it was not exactly an unreasonable judgment to make. "I was not made fully aware of the details until August, when I paid Miss Potter a visit."

"I see, and did what you see change your mind?"

"What I saw certainly forced me to consider a different point of view," Snape was sure his face twinged at the memory of being sent flying into that cabinet, "but I was not completely certain until I had further meetings with Lucius."

"So you visited him in Azkaban?"

"To the extent that I was permitted, yes." He thought it prudent not to mention the times he had seen Lucius at his Manor, knowing that such freedoms were kept secret from the public.

"And now, from what you have seen, what do you think of their relationship?" he asked casually, belying the importance of such a question. "Do you approve? Do you understand?" Snape took a deep breath, knowing that he had to get this right.

"At first, I did not approve," he began, "I'm not sure anybody did. Yet, despite that, she has ignored all censure that has been directed her way. Two and a half months of constant criticism and still she has not backed down. Surely that must speak volumes as to her determination to prove that, on the whole, she did very little wrong."

"But we are not here to discuss her determination, or her drive, or what she may or may not have done wrong. I wish to know what you think." His reply was clipped and stern. "If you would please return to the original question."

"As I was going to elaborate, before you interrupted," Snape's voice was equally brusque, sending a shiver down Kathryn's spine, "I was disapproving at first."

"But?" the man interjected as Snape paused briefly, making the Potions Professor's eyes widen in fury.

"But I have since had the chance to reconsider all that I had seen over the past two years, as well as being able to observe them together without any pretence." Her hand hidden by her sleeve, Kathryn crossed her fingers and hoped that what Snape was about to say was favourable. "And funnily enough, I find them surprisingly well suited." Kathryn's heart soared.

"In what way?" the curly-haired wizard looked quite perplexed at the notion.

"Because she challenges him, disagrees with him." Snape explained. "In twenty five years of friendship, I have never known someone to do so, especially not a woman. As he made clear to you earlier, he has spent his entire life surrounded by those who have done nothing but reinforce his beliefs and ideals. Her presence in his life marks a great change, for she is not a woman who was raised to agree with everything he says in the hope that she will become the next Mistress of Malfoy Manor and benefit from his fortune."

Hermione could not help but be slightly proud as she listened to Snape's assessment, having proposed such a theory to Harry and Ron several months ago.

"Interesting, do go on."

"I have listened to them talk, both in public and in private, and she is not afraid to dispute his opinions. She can make quite the persuasive argument and therein lies the importance, because she forces him to reassess his ideals."

"Anything else you would like to add?"

"She is fiercely intelligent, in case you hadn't noticed, she matches him" Snape drawled, "and that is a far cry from some of the women who have vied for his attention since his wife's death. She is politically savvy, and has proven herself more than capable of manipulating events in order to get what she wants."

"You say that she is manipulative?"

"No, not in that sense, but it is the only word that accurately describes what I mean. For example, she pushed the start date of this trial forwards by simply going to the bank and reminding people that she was there. Without speaking a word to anyone in a position of authority over such things, a date was set and the public, once again outraged at what they believed to have happened, were placated."

"I see." He gave a nod of understanding, and Kathryn could only hope that he really did comprehend what Snape had just said. "You mentioned his fortune; does that have any bearing on the situation between Mr. Malfoy and Miss Potter?"

"She asks nothing of him," Snape was quick to reply, shaking his head, "she has her own fortune and makes no claim upon his. Despite what people may be inclined to think, she is financially independent of him. She is not some sycophantic fortune-hunter, oh no!" Snape smirked slightly. "Indeed, it is somewhat peculiar, as she is far more powerful than him. She has always been so, even when she was young, and is one of the few people that can boast a sphere of influence larger than that of Lucius Malfoy." From the looks on many of the faces that lined the walls of the courtroom, it was apparent that few had ever looked at things in this way before.

"What about all the clothes and jewels? From what we have seen, such things cannot be inexpensive?"

"The jewels he provides," Snape explained carefully, "but not at her request. He gives such things out of kindness alone. As for her clothes, I cannot offer factual information."

"Miss Potter," the man turned to face her, "you were pictured in Diagon Alley yesterday morning with numerous bags of clothes. Whilst I do not wish to speculate their value, I do with to know from which vault the payment will be taken."

"I am not a kept woman," she answered clearly, "and as such, I am perfectly capable of paying for my own wardrobe. Oh, and just to save the speculation, the bill was over seventy thousand Galleons." Feverish muttering broke out at the mention of such a sum being spent on clothes alone. Even Harry, who knew that his sister had never been one to compromise when it came to style, was quite shocked at such an amount.

"Seventy thousand?" he whispered to his sister before Snape continued.

"Well, fifteen outfits," she counted quickly on her fingers, "plus shoes and accessories from the new autumn/winter collections. It's not such a shocking price to pay considering I was given a discretionary discount by most."

"They gave you a discount?"

"Well, if I wear them in public, that's free publicity for them." She explained quickly. "Besides, I have been a good customer to most of those fashion houses for several years. That is at least worth something." Harry merely shrugged, not knowing how to reply as the man cleared his throat and called for order.

"Thank you for that helpful insight, Miss Potter." He gave her a curt nod before turning his attention back to Snape. "Do you have any other comments to offer?"

"Many," Snape sighed, "but I shall keep to the most important. Aside from her obvious youth and beauty, what I would consider to be a key reason for their being so well matched, is that they both care for each other." The entire room was silent, waiting on tenterhooks. "What I have been told in confidence, I shall not repeat, but it is suffice to say that such a matter takes precedence over trivial matters of money and power."

"A most enlightening point." The wizard scratched out a note on his parchment. "Now, finally, could you tell me whether you think he is a danger?"

"To whom?"

"To the public at large."

"No." Snape's firm response rang out in the quiet. "I cannot say from when, but it was at least certain from the moment he lied to the Dark Lord."

"Thank you, Professor." He made one final note. "I have no further questions." Silently, fudge motioned for Snape to return to his seat, which the Potions Professor did with a look of relief upon his face, before turning to the witch who was to speak next.

"Again, with your permission Minister," it was the elegant woman with fading blonde hair that spoke this time, "I would like to pose several questions to Albus Dumbledore about his former student and her relationship with the accused."

"Granted." If Dumbledore was surprised to be asked to speak, he did not show it. His silvery hair and beard seeming to glow in the dim light of the courtroom, he walked calmly forward to the podium that Snape had just vacated and waited for the first question.

"If you would be so kind as to state your name and profession for the record." The witch asked politely, giving Dumbledore a faint smile.

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore." His voice was cool and clear, commanding the attention of everyone in the room, just like he did when speaking to a crowded Great Hall at Hogwarts. "Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"Thank you Professor. Now, simple mathematics tells me that you have known Lucius Malfoy for around twenty eight years, is that correct?"

"It is."

"And Miss Potter you have known for the same length of time as Professor Snape?"

"Technically yes, although I have known of her existence since she was born."

"Thank you." She glanced down at her notes before continuing. "Firstly, I notice that you have remained silent over what has happened between Mr. Malfoy and Miss Potter. In fact, you have steadfastly refused to answer questions on the topic, why is that?"

"I have refused to make any remark upon the situation because I did not wish my opinion to plant any ideas in the minds of the public," he explained rationally, "or the Wizengamot. In my position, one tends to find that your opinions are all too often accepted as the right ones by those who do not know their own."

"And so you have stayed silent on the subject in order to protect the integrity of the current proceedings, yes?"

"Well, aside from that, it would have been terribly tactless of me to speak before being appraised of all the facts. Such as it is, I only heard the full tale from Miss Potter last week."

"So you were unacquainted with any of the particulars until last week?" she seemed completely stunned that someone with such a close connection could be kept so in the dark.

"Yes."

"Had you no desire to know?"

"I wanted to know what had gone on as much as the next person," if he was slightly exasperated, he did not show it, "but I respected Miss Potter's right to share the details when she was ready. I had heard the basic details form her brother and Godfather and beyond that I was willing to wait She was in a fragile enough state as it was, and I was not about to make it worse."

"Very well. Have you had the opportunity to discuss things with Miss Potter since she finished giving her testimony?"

"I spoke to her this weekend."

"What did you discuss?"

"We discussed what she had told the Wizengamot, obviously, and I told her what I thought."

"And what, might I ask, do you think? After all, your opinion is highly valued like you said, and now you are at liberty to express it." Dumbledore paused for a moment, his eyes twinkling as he collected his thoughts.

"I told her that I was proud of what she had done." He stated calmly, keeping his eyes fixed on the Wizengamot.

"You were proud?" she gasped in shock. "Proud of her lies? Proud of her sneaking around with a Death Eater?"

"No," Dumbledore corrected coolly, "I am proud of how she has stepped forward to answer for her actions. I am proud of her handling of a most difficult situation." The admiration that suffused his words was unmistakable, and left no one in any doubt of his feelings. "Most of all, however, I am proud of the sacrifice she was willing to make to keep those she loved safe."

"Surely you cannot claim to be so proud when you first heard what had gone on?"

"No, indeed I was quite unhappy that Miss Potter had thought it necessary to conceal the original incident from those who were best placed to help her. As for my anger, well, I must confess that such feelings were mostly directed towards Mr. Malfoy."

"Had you believed him capable of such an act?"

"I don't think I was ever entirely sure what he was capable of." Dumbledore shook his head; a pensive expression playing across his features. "I don't think anyone has ever really been sure. He treads the boundary between light and dark without really ever straying too far into either. He has certainly confessed himself capable of some fairly unspeakable deeds, yet at the same time he has proven himself to be quite selfless when it comes to certain things."

"I don't think that selfless was ever a word used to describe Lucius Malfoy." She commented sardonically.

"How else would you describe his actions towards Miss Potter?"

"Which ones?"

"He lied to save her life without any thought for his own," Dumbledore reminded her curtly, "I think that just about manages to be selfless."

"Yet he also gave her control of his finances and estate in order to keep them far from the reach of the Ministry. That is self-preservation, not selflessness."

"True, yet I must remind you that he earlier mentioned that this was also done in order to ensure that she had a safe place in which to reside." Dumbledore countered her argument smoothly. "Now, perhaps, you see what I mean about the fine balance he strikes between light and dark?"

"Perhaps." She conceded after a few moments pause. "But that is still not enough to redeem him."

"I am not suggesting that it is, but I do suggest that you review his prior actions and consider them from a different perspective. Look past the façade he has always presented to the world and seek out the hidden reasons, for it is only there that you will find the man he really is."

"And what, might I ask, did you think of her behaviour once relations between Miss Potter and Mr. Malfoy were fully consensual?" despite the profound nature of his last statement, the witch glossed right over it and moved onto her next question.

"I believe that her," Dumbledore paused, correcting himself, "no, their behaviour, was that of any lovers."

"But they are not just any lovers."

"They were two people between whom any relationship would be considered taboo, how did you expect them to have acted? When you forget who they are and what they stood for, that is all you have left. They acted as any clandestine lovers would."

"Surely you cannot have been so blasé at the time of their discovery?"

"It would be a lie to say that her actions did not leave me somewhat disconcerted." Dumbledore explained carefully, not wanting his words to be misunderstood. "Because she did tell a great many lies, and took a great many risks. Most of all, she risked her own life; placing herself in a position of extreme vulnerability whenever she stole away to his Manor. With no one who knew where she really was, she relied on blind trust that he would not betray her to his Master."

"For someone that has been praised for her intelligence, that does not seem particularly clever."

"Probably not, but the heart is not governed by logic."

"So, in essence, you disapprove of the risks she took?"

"I certainly disapprove of her placing herself in such danger," the pensieve look returned, "but the very nature of a risk is the gamble you take with the possible consequences. For example, a Seeker feints during a game of Quidditch; risking crashing in order to have a few extra seconds to seek out the Golden Snitch. In this instance, Miss Potter took the risk of forging a relationship with the most unlikely of candidates, but ultimately that relationship saved hers and her brother's lives."

"A curious analysis." She nodded, apparently able to understand his point. "Although it does seem impertinent, I would like to know how a relationship of such intensity escaped your notice whilst she was in school."

"Like all those who saw Miss Potter and Mr. Malfoy together, I saw what I was supposed to and no more. As Professor Snape told you, she had obviously made a concerted effort to enhance her Occlumency skills. Although such exploits were not the original reason I had Miss Potter and her brother study Occlumency, it certainly did benefit her situation."

"How did such a misunderstanding, on your part, make you feel?"

"I was severely unsettled by the fact that I did not even come close to the conclusion that there was something between them." Dumbledore admitted I accepted the apparent coincidence that brought them together more often than normal and, I suppose quite carelessly assumed that she was capable of handling herself."

"Did you not even consider intervening?"

"To intervene would have been foolish."

"How so?"

"I did not want Miss Potter to believe that I did not trust her, and I did not wish her to doubt herself, or her capabilities. I knew the sacrifice that she and her brother would eventually have to make, and I did not want her to think for a moment that I did not trust her to make the right decision."

"And did she," the woman asked, an inquisitive gleam in her eye, "make the right decision?"

"Yes, she did."

"I meant beyond the sacrifice necessary to defeat He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named." She clarified firmly.

"I know you did," Dumbledore replied with a smile, "and my answer is still the same." The occasionally reverent silence the audience had kept throughout the majority of his questioning was swiftly broken. "Though the beginnings were undoubtedly questionable, and the concealment an unfortunate necessity, she has found someone with whom she is happy. After a lifetime of danger and concealment, and five years of war, it would be very cruel to begrudge her such satisfaction."

"I do not think that there is anyone who resents her having peace, indeed, I believe we all enjoy it."

"Oh but it is resented," Dumbledore immediately disagreed, "that much is evident every day. Yet, even though she could hide away from the scandal and the scrutiny, she has stood before this court to answer for what she did."

"Nothing less would be acceptable." The witch replied coldly. "It had to be determined that there was no duplicity on her part."

"Of course, of course," Dumbledore nodded, "and though you have still to pass judgement on that matter, both you and I know that someone who has so willingly laid open her private life to such invasion can have nothing to hide. The only deception you will find is the fact that she concealed her relationship with Mr. Malfoy." Furtive whispers again swept through the room, all of them deliberating the effect such staunch support from Dumbledore would have.

Kathryn sat silent and stony-faced, fighting the temptation to smile with every ounce of her self control. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny shared small, private smiles; knowing what such a statement would mean for their friend. Lucius was similarly devoid of expression, although it was more out of shock than happiness. He had never in his life expected the Hogwarts Headmaster to speak such words in his defence.

"That is yet to be seen." The woman replied, again in an icy tone. "I only have one final question for you, Headmaster."

"Ask away."

"Like my esteemed colleague asked of Professor Snape before you, do you consider Mr. Malfoy to be a threat?"

"I consider Mr. Malfoy's detention in Azkaban to be a waste of resources." Dumbledore's voice did not waver as he told the court exactly what he had told Kathryn on Saturday morning. "The Dark Mark is, of course, incontrovertible proof that he was a Death Eater. However, if you'll remember, there sits one in this room who is living proof that those who follow such a path can change." Hundreds of eyes immediately focused on Snape. Dumbledore cracked a small smile, his blue eyes twinkling. "Granted, it is rare, but it is not impossible."


	85. Chapter 85

A/N - Wow...two updates in a month....that's probably the best I've managed in a while!! Hermione and Ron speak their minds....with some interesting results. I know it's slightly shorter than the last chapter, but I promise the next one will be juicy!!

As usual, please read, enjoy and leave me a nice review!!

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The room was silent for quite some time after that; most hardly daring to believe that Albus Dumbledore, of all people, was effectively throwing his support behind Lucius Malfoy. Indeed, the man he defended looked equally shell-shocked.

"Your comments are duly noted, Professor." The witch looked decidedly unmoved, her quill scratching across parchment. "You may return to your seat." Nodding solemnly, Dumbledore descended the steps and the rest of the room waited to see what would happen next.

"Would Miss Hermione Granger please step forwards?" the eccentric gentleman, with slicked back hair and a monocle, took over from his colleague.

"Oh lord, I knew they'd call me on it." Hermione whispered; wide-eyed and rooted to her seat.

"You'll be fine." Ron reassured her, giving her a gentle nudge to get her to stand up.

"Tell the truth," Kathryn murmured as Hermione walked past, "I don't mind what you say." Hermione gave a nervous smile in response, absentmindedly rearranging her jumper as she walked.

"Again, would you please state your name for the record?"

"Hermione Jean Granger." Her voice was shaky, as it had been before, but Kathryn was sure that would soon pass. After all, she had faced far more daunting things than the Wizengamot.

"Do you solemnly swear that everything you say before this court shall be the truth?"

"I do."

"Excellent, now, to business. Do you have a profession, Miss Granger?"

"Not at the moment." Hermione replied, her voice growing stronger.

"Why?"

"To be honest, I don't really have the time." She confessed, swiping a stray lock of hair out of her eyes.

"But you have finished school?"

"Yes, but I haven't really had time to think about what I want to do. There were other things that were more important."

"Such as?"

"Surviving." Her reply was deadpan, leaving no one in any doubt that she was serious. Ron couldn't help but smirk; sure that Hermione had been taking note of how Kathryn handled herself before the Wizengamot.

"So what have you been doing since you left Hogwarts at the end of June?"

"I've actually been having a summer," Hermione explained, "and, of course, there's been a lot to deal with since Voldemort fell."

"Do you mean the fallout from Miss Potter's liaison with Mr. Malfoy?"

"Well, yes, I suppose that's been a defining aspect of the summer."

"What have you had to deal with?"

"Mainly media interest, I mean, she's one of my best friends and I've practically lived with her for the past five years." Hermione explained truthfully. "I still live in the same house as her brother and Godfather, so it stands to reason that the media are interested in what I may know. And that doesn't just apply to me; it's the same for anyone who was so closely connected to her."

"I note that you have declined to answer any questions on the subject?"

"Yes, it wouldn't be fair." Such a point was the general consensus of the Order; none of them eager to judge before knowing the whole story.

"Very well. Are there any other ramifications of the discovery that you have had to deal with?"

"I've been supporting her," Hermione looked quite unsure as to the point of his questions, "we all have, that is to say, Harry, Ron, Ginny and I."

"Are you happy to offer her such support?"

"Of course. The last I checked, that was what friends did."

"Even though she has chosen to side with a man who was brought up to despise those of Muggle birth?"

"I don't deny that it was difficult to comprehend," she spoke slowly, considering every word, "she locked herself away for over a week after the Daily Prophet published that photo of them together. I'll admit that I spent most of that week wondering if I would actually want to speak to her when she came out."

"You evidently did."

"Yes, because that was when she told us what had happened, what he had done to her."

"She told you everything?" he raised his eyebrows, apparently seeing a contradiction between what Hermione was saying and what others had said about what Kathryn had divulged prior to the start of the trial.

"No," Hermione clarified, "it was a fairly basic explanation, but it was enough."

"Did she explain anything of her feelings for Mr Malfoy?"

"No, but at that point I think it was best to stick to the simple facts."

"So, after finding them together at Malfoy Manor, when did you next see Miss Potter and Mr. Malfoy together?"

"That would be after the Minister realised that trapping her in the Manor with two Dementors for company was a bad idea." Her tone was dry and uncompromising, making her disapproval plain.

"Was there anything in particular that struck you about their relationship?" he asked inquisitively, regarding Hermione questioningly through his monocle.

"Well, it was apparent that there was more to their relationship than we had originally thought."

"Anything else?"

"He cared." She replied simply, looking directly at Lucius. "Granted, he was very angry, but the only thing on his mind was her. He appeared very happy to be near her and, when Harry and Sirius separated him from her, he was obviously incensed. As for Kathryn, she seemed very," she paused, searching for the word, "content."

"In what sense?"

"With him. She was easier then we had seen her in weeks, far happier too. She actually smiled, and we hadn't seen that for a while" Hermione smiled at the memory. "That was when she explained that not everything had been involuntary, I mean, they made that pretty obvious."

"Did you approve of what you saw?"

"No." Several people gasped, but Kathryn didn't expect any less of someone who was everything that Voldemort and the Death Eaters opposed. "In my mind, he was still a Death Eater and I had not seen sufficient to make any judgement as to a change in his demeanour."

"How did it make you feel to have your best friend living in his house?"

"It hurt, I suppose." She shrugged. "After all she had said about only associating with him because it could prove useful, to find out that she actually wanted to be with him was like, well, I'm not really sure what I could compare it to. Maybe the shock of finding out I was a witch would be the best example." Harry couldn't disagree with her on that one; he had firsthand experience after all. "Some part of me wanted to hate her for lying to us like that, but now I find that I can't."

"Anything else?"

"It was unsettling to see how comfortable she was in such an unfamiliar place, the lion's den if you will. But now that we know how much time she spent there, it easily explains how she could be so undaunted when surrounded by such incomparable luxury." Hermione's explanation was wonderfully articulate. "When we first found out that he was entrusting everything to her, I certainly thought that he was trying to taint her by association. Knowing now the real intent behind it, I cannot fault his reasoning."

"You seem to have undergone quite a remarkable transformation of opinion since June." He commented, regarding her with intense scrutiny. "How can you explain such a change?"

"Well, for a start, my opinion didn't just change overnight. We spent a lot of time arguing between June and now. The last time Harry, Ron and I saw her before this trial started, we argued."

"Why?"

"Over lots of things," Hermione shrugged, reluctant to reveal the true reason, "the house, her relationship, her refusal to tell us anything beyond what she already had. They were the main bones of contention between us."

"But do you now understand each other better?"

"I think we do." Hermione nodded. "I think now that we know what went on, and all of the reasons behind the actions, I can understand why she lied."

"What about what you have seen?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Has anything you have observed between Mr. Malfoy and Miss Potter served to assist this transition of opinion?"

"I've seen the way he looks at her," she replied with a wistful smile, "and after eight years of knowing him, albeit not as closely as I do now, I have never seen him look at anyone in that way."

"Most interesting," his quill scratched rapidly across parchment, "and does this greater knowledge leave you any more at ease with him?"

"Like I said before," her voice was firm and sure, "he has made me feel welcome in his home. He speaks to me with respect, which is a marked change from when I first met him before my second year. Though it may only be a small gesture, I know that a great deal must have changed for him to engage me in polite conversation."

"Bearing that in mind, would you, at this point in time, consider yourself inclined to accept Miss Potter's relationship with Mr. Malfoy?" Hermione was silent for several long moments, her face bearing the same, concentrated expression that they had often seen when she was in the library.

"I think it is too early for me to answer such a question." She replied slowly. "Their relationship has been public knowledge for about two months, and in that time she has had barely two days with him."

"An unavoidable consequence of incarceration." He interjected, earning a scowl from Hermione.

"But my point is that I barely know him! I have spent brief amounts of time in his company, but beyond that all I have to go on is what Kathryn has told us here, and what she tells us in confidence. That is no base on which to form an opinion."

"What about provisionally, because surely you must have gleaned some idea of their relationship form seeing them together?"

"Provisionally?" Hermione paused again to think. "Well, I know I cannot discount his past; but considering what I know at present, I can see no reasonable cause to oppose their relationship." This time, Kathryn could not help but smile. Most seemed shocked that Hermione could even think about supporting her friend's relationship, but Hermione did not seem to care.

"I would have thought that you would be the last person to accept something so controversial?"

"And that is where myself and Voldemort's followers differ; present company excluded," she replied with a confident smile, nodding towards Lucius, "because I understand that tolerance is a far better alternative. And besides, after everything she went through, I think we have little right to judge her based solely upon the man who makes her happy."

"Thank you, Miss Granger." He made a final note. "You may step down." Giving a small sigh of relief, Hermione hurried down to rejoin her friends. As she walked, Kathryn noticed that she flashed Lucius the tiniest of smiles before heading up the steps that led back to her seat.

"With your permission Minister, I should also like to ask some questions of Mr. Ronald Weasley."

"Of course." Fudge motioned for him to proceed. "Mr. Weasley, if you would be so kind as to step forward."

"Oh bugger." Ron went quite pale. "I didn't think they'd want to talk to me! I don't know anything!"

"Relax Ron!" Harry hissed, pushing Ron off his seat to make him stand up. "Just go and answer their questions."

"Ron!" Hermione snapped sternly. "You have fought Death Eaters, helped destroy Voldemort," she listed, "and you survived Umbridge! You can answer a few simple questions!"

"Yeah, alright." Ron acquiesced shakily, making his way towards the podium.

"Your full name, for the record?" the wizard asked as soon as Ron had taken his place.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley." He obliged, flushing slightly as he spoke his middle name. Down the row, Kathryn watched as Fred and George stifled giggles.

"Thank you." He looked down, consulting his notes for a moment. "And am I right to assume that you too have no profession at this time?"

"Yeah, that's right. But like Hermione said, we've been busy."

"Supporting Miss Potter?"

"Yes."

"And are you, like Miss Granger, happy to do this?"

"She deserves our support." Ron replied solemnly, his voice growing stronger.

"Does she really?"

"After everything her and Harry went through, it's the least we can give." His reply was honest, repeating a sentiment felt by many of those who had fought at Hogwarts.

"I do not deny that they deserve support, and of course thanks, but do her dealings with Mr. Malfoy really deserve your backing?" he peered intensely at Ron through his monocle.

"I'm not saying that I can just forget everything she did," Ron explained somewhat hesitantly, "but I don't like to think what could've happened if they hadn't had any relationship at all."

"You mean during the battle at Hogwarts?"

"Yeah," Ron nodded fervently, "I mean; my friends would be dead."

"I think that had already been noted." He cut in; obviously thinking that was all Ron had to say.

"But I think that everyone else has forgotten what their lives would be like if things had been different." Ron went on, unperturbed by the wizard's interruption. "Harry and Kathryn would be dead, and you certainly wouldn't be sitting on that bench." The courtroom fell silent as he laid out what, in his eyes, could so easily have been reality. "The Ministry would be run by Voldemort, and he would be doling out his own brand of justice to those who dared oppose him. I know that we lived in fear before, but that would be nothing compared to the terror he would unleash."

"Interesting conclusions, Mr. Weasley."

"You know it's what could have happened," Ron shrugged, "so in the grand scheme of things, I think what she did counts as the lesser evil." Looking over at Hermione, Kathryn could tell that she was immensely proud that Ron had chosen this to be one of his more articulate moments.

"Yes, well, moving on. It has been implied that there existed, or indeed exists, some animosity between Mr. Malfoy and your Father." He quickly changed the subject, as if he knew what Ron had said was true, but he didn't want to acknowledge it.

"It was more than implied," Ron drawled before he could even finish his question, "and you know it. I mean, they had a bloody fistfight in Flourish and Blott's. You don't get any more obvious than that."

"How did that episode make you feel?"

"I was proud," Ron replied with a smirk, "my dad had given Malfoy's dad a black eye." Mrs Weasley frowned in disapproval as her husband smiled at his son's comment.

"Was this animosity repeated between yourself and Draco Malfoy?"

"The first thing he said to me was an insult, so yeah; it wasn't much of a chore to hate him."

"I see. Now, although I think most found it difficult to make any sense of the rumours surrounding the events of your second year at Hogwarts, from what I was able to discern; Mr. Malfoy had some role and that may, or may not, have influenced his departure from the Board of Governors for the following two years." Lucius gave an almost imperceptible roll of his eyes, apparently exasperated that the man was going back so far. "Considering the content of these rumours, would it be foolish to ask if this hatred also transferred to the father?"

"That was a long time ago." Ron sighed, swiping a hand through his messy hair.

"But did it affect your opinion of him?"

"Not really," he shrugged indifferently, "it just confirmed what I already thought."

"What happened to validate your opinion?" though the rest of the room were probably oblivious, Kathryn could tell that Lucius was uncomfortable with the direction of the current question. Harry had told her what had happened in their second year, along with many other things, as part of a general crash course in school affairs before she entered Hogwarts in their fifth year. She knew that any mention of what he had done, despite it being seven years ago, would not reflect well. Although he'd obviously had no idea of the capabilities of the apparently innocuous diary, it was no less proof of his association with Voldemort, and his willingness to sabotage those in his way by any means possible.

"To be honest," Ron ran a hand through his hair again, "I think it's up to Dumbledore to tell you that, not me. It was a private school matter, and it still is." Harry squeezed Ginny's hand with his own; knowing that Ron was remaining so tight-lipped, despite all that he could say, in order to spare her the embarrassment of dredging that particular incident up.

"Very well." He peered down at his notes once more. "So, despite the obvious, longstanding, enmity that has existed between your families, how do you view the current situation?"

"Well, to be honest," Ron fiddled with his sleeve, apparently dreading what he was going to say, "it made me want to be sick, you know, finding them together like that. But, I mean that was when we thought that he'd just, you know, done what we had imagined." In contrast to his previous clarity and confidence, Ron was back to his usual self.

"How do you find yourself inclined now?"

"Different to what I was then, that's for sure."

"Would that be a view similar to that of Miss Granger?"

"I guess so, yeah."

"Was there anything specific that helped this change of mind, aside from loyalty to your friend?"

"She was attacked in Diagon alley," Ron replied without hesitation, "a couple of weeks after it had all come out. We warned her not to go out, 'cause obviously we were the only ones who had any idea of what had really happened, but she didn't want to look like she was beaten."

"I believe that incident was well documented in the press."

"Yeah, well I saw what they were doing and it was disgusting." Ron's voice filled with venom. "No matter what she had done, she did not deserve that. It made them no better than the Death Eaters they so despised." Kathryn felt a great rush of affection towards Ron, unaware that he had been so influenced by what had happened that day.

"A very noble sentiment. And has what you have heard changed your opinion of Mr. Malfoy?"

"It's certainly made me see him differently," Ron gave a shallow nod, "and it's definitely been surprising."

"How so?"

"I suppose it's the first time I've seen him as something other than a Death Eater, but I guess that's what happens when you grow up on the other side of the line."

"The other side of the line?"

"Well, our families are both pureblood, but we have lived completely different lives. In his eyes, we were a bunch of blood-traitors and he treated us that way. I never thought he could be kind, or unselfish, because I grew up hearing how my parents talked about him, and seeing how treated my dad. It's hardly surprising that I'd already written them off as a bad job before I even got to Hogwarts." He was surprisingly frank, but his comments rang true.

"Considering that, I do not see how you can be comfortable with one of your best friends being his lover and living in his house? Isn't it too much of an insult?"

"She shares it with us you know," Ron drawled, "it's not like she hides away. We're there more often than not, and it's not like the house has changed her; she doesn't think she's better then anyone else just because she's got all this wealth."

"But there certainly people that she considers herself to be above," he countered sharply, "we have seen evidence in the way she speaks to our Minister. I don't believe that even you could argue against that?"

"If you consider how she has been treated by the Minister," Ron replied patiently, "it's not really surprising, is it?"

"Touché."

"And, to be fair, she's really the wrong person to pick on!" titters of laughter echoed around the room.

"Should he be in Azkaban?" he asked abruptly, silencing the laughter.

"Why waste the space?" Ron shrugged. "I can't really see any point in him being there, except to spite Kathryn." Ron looked like he could continue, but he was interrupted.

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley, your opinion is noted." He turned to look at Fudge. "I have no further questions." With a relieved smile, Ron stepped down and hurried back to his seat. He had barely sat down before the next member of the Wizengamot spoke.

"Would Sirius Black please step forwards?" the woman with greying brown hair took the next turn. Far quicker than Ron had been, Sirius left his seat and walked towards the head of the room. Kathryn's heart sank, knowing her Godfather's would not have changed since Saturday. She and Lucius shared a grim look before turning their gaze to Sirius. All they could do was hope.


	86. Chapter 86

A/N - Cripes...that was a difficult chapter to write!!! Sorry it took so long (a busy week of work that left me stupidly tired didn't help) but Chapter 86 is here!!! Finally, we get to hear what Sirius and Harry have to say on the subject....and I shall say no more!!

As always, please read, enjoy (the most important part) and leave me a review to keep my fingers pattering on the keys instead of getting disracted!!!

* * *

Kathryn looked up at her Godfather, standing there tall and proud, and it was the only time in her life that she had not been happy to see him. He was a far cry from the man he had been five years ago, when she had arrived on the doorstep of Grimmauld Place. Back then he was only two years out of Azkaban, still a fugitive, and bore the signs of twelve years of neglect.

Now, however, it would be fair to say that he was back to his usual self, if the photos they had seen of him as a young man were anything to go by. His cheeks were no longer sunken and his frame no longer gaunt. Where once they had been dulled by years of torment, his eyes were bright and alive with energy. His hair was neat and his beard trimmed, nothing like the picture that had graced his wanted poster. Despite the fact that she was still cross with him, Kathryn was prepared to concede that he looked rather handsome.

"So, Mr. Black," the witch began once the formalities of formal identification were over, "you were the closest friend of the Potters, were you not?"

"I suppose you could say that," he shrugged, "I'd like to think that I was a good friend to them. They certainly were to me."

"You had known them since you started school?"

"Yes, but I'd heard of James before that. He was some distant cousin, but we'd never met." It was no hard task for Kathryn to divine that this was due to the difference in opinion of the Potter and Black families. Although her father's family had not been radical enough to merit being blasted off the family tree, there were many others who had fallen victim to the wand of Walburga Black.

"Why had you never met? Do you know?"

"I think my parents disapproved of the Potters," he suggested casually, "they were more open in their ideas about what made a person worthy of respect."

"What exactly is that supposed to mean?"

"They didn't think that blood mattered." He drawled lazily. "After I ran away from home, they let me live there as long as I needed to. I don't think any of my other relatives would have done that, not if it risked the rest of the family disowning them."

"So, you were disowned?"

"Yes, because I didn't associate with the right people and didn't want some nut to tattoo my arm. My Mother literally blasted me off the family tree, like I had never existed."

"So James Potter became more like family to you?"

"He was everything I'd always wanted my brother to be, and Lily was one of the nicest people I have ever known."

"Is it safe to assume that they also held you in such high esteem?"

"Well, James asked me to be best man at his wedding, and they wanted me to be Godfather to their children. I think that was probably a sign of their trust."

"It certainly was." She nodded in agreement. "Now, from what we have learned since your escape from Azkaban, once the threat upon their lives became apparent, they asked you to be their Secret Keeper."

"Yes, that's right."

"They trusted you enough to place their lives in your hands, and yet you refused."

"I thought I was too obvious a choice."

"But you were a prodigiously skilled duellist, more than capable of keeping and defending their secret?"

"Yes, that's why it was too obvious. They needed someone that Voldemort would never consider a threat, so I persuaded them to secretly change."

"To whom?"

"To Peter Pettigrew." Sirius sighed. "He had little skill in anything and was therefore an unassuming choice. Voldemort could chase me all he wanted whilst the secret remained safe. At least, that was the theory." He explained. "I was probably foolish to think that he could have nothing to do with the Dark Lord, especially when you consider how easily he gravitated towards those with power. I urged my friends to choose Peter and in doing so I killed them. I wish I had just let them pick me, I would have at least taken the secret to my grave."

"Hindsight is quite cruel." She commented.

"As is twelve years in Azkaban." He shot back with a wry smile.

"Ah yes," she regarded him curiously, "how did you survive so many years of the Dementors' torment?"

"I knew that I was innocent," he shrugged, "they could not take that away from me. It helped keep me sane."

"I see, well, that clears up the background information." She shuffled through her notes. "I assume that you had no idea about your Goddaughter's relationship with Lucius Malfoy until they were found together?"

"Yes," he confirmed with a nod, "I had seen the pictures in the Prophet, but I put it off to coincidence. I wasn't informed of the frequency of their meetings at Hogwarts, and probably for good reason."

"How did their discovery make you feel?"

"I was put in Azkaban for a murder I had never committed," he explained slowly, "but at that point I was fully ready to commit cold-blooded murder."

"I see, but now that you know the full truth, has that changed your opinion?"

"I'm not entirely sure it has." He shook his head. "I still feel the same contempt for him that I did before I knew what had gone on. Actually, I feel my abhorrence of Mr. Malfoy has actually gone up a notch or two."

"But you live in the same house as your Goddaughter; surely there was time for discussion?"

"She does not live in my house anymore," Sirius corrected sharply, "she hasn't been home since the beginning of August." Obviously Harry had not let slip that she had been there on Sunday morning. "She has lived in Malfoy Manor since the Minister saw fit to confine her there, and she has given me no sign of wishing to return."

"So did you discuss anything with her?"

"Aside from her brief summary of events, no."

"Did you not pursue her on the subject?"

"I tried to talk to her, but she wasn't particularly forthcoming on the subject and I didn't want to push her." He explained, recalling those painful days in July. "She was quiet and withdrawn as it was and I didn't want to drive her further away."

"That is understandable," she nodded in assent, "so can I assume that you too have been supporting your Goddaughter through this testing time?"

"I was at first, but at the moment we do not see eye to eye." Kathryn sighed and hung her head, knowing that there would be no escaping a repeat of the weekend's argument.

"Why not?"

"I think of her like my own daughter," Sirius confessed honestly, "but no matter the arguments she has made, I cannot reconcile myself to her choice."

"Why not?"

"Because I cannot so easily forget what he has done."

"I'm not sure that your Goddaughter will forget that easily either." She pointed out, much to Kathryn's astonishment.

"I don't mean just that," Sirius shook his head, "I mean his entire past as a Death Eater, as a Malfoy, as something I have fought against all my life." His reasoning was impassioned and Kathryn could see by the faces of those around them that his words were having some resonance.

"Surely the happiness of your Goddaughter is more important to you than old rivalries?"

"It is important to me, but I would rather that she was happy with someone else." He responded curtly. "He has no place being with her."

"She does not appear to think so."

"That is her business, but for my part, I do not believe him fit to lay eyes upon her. Not after what he has done." That comment stung, but Kathryn willed herself to keep a straight face, despite wanting to pick up where their argument had left off on Saturday afternoon.

"Why do you think he saved their lives?" she asked bluntly.

"For his own selfish interests." Sirius replied quickly and confidently, earning a particularly dark glower from Lucius. "As a last, desperate act of self preservation. He knew that she would speak up on his behalf, if they both survived, and that it could be a means of avoiding Azkaban."

"What makes you so certain that you are right about this matter?"

"Thirty years of experience." He replied darkly; a grim expression marring his handsome features.

"I see," she made a quick note, "so, aside from the obvious reasons, why do you hold such exception to their relationship whilst others have drifted towards tentative acceptance?"

"Well, in my mind, my Goddaughter represents the future," Sirius explained slowly, "a future that is without the prejudices of the past."

"Surely the future must also involve some form of reconciliation with the views of the past?" she suggested quickly, a curious look in her eyes. "I am sure there are those who would argue that Miss Potter's relationship with Mr. Malfoy is a potent symbol of such a bridge?" Kathryn sat stunned for a moment when she realised that this woman appeared to be speaking in her favour. It was very subtle, and may have only been to counter Sirius' argument, but it gave her hope.

"I do not believe he can change." Kathryn considered this a bit rich, especially since his own brother had sacrificed his life in order to betray Voldemort.

"What we have heard from others seems to contradict your opinion."

"No matter what he may have become, he still belongs to the old world; his possessions and fortune are testament enough to that. It is a world to which she does not belong, for she was born to be something better."

"So how do you see the trappings of this old world, as you put it, impacting upon your Goddaughter?"

"I think their relationship jeopardises her future role in our society." Sirius was very quick to launch into his explanation. "There is no way she will be taken seriously if she works to implement change during the day, and then returns to her four thousand acres in the evening. It is hypocritical."

"Should such a thing matter, for surely her private life should have no bearing at all upon her chosen career?"

"It shouldn't," Sirius shook his head in agreement with the woman, "but I think she underestimates how much it will affect her future. She may shrug it off now, but the taint of scandal is not easily forgotten."

"I see," her quill hurried across parchment, "and finally, in your opinion, what has she done wrong?"

"She has lied to everyone who cares for her." Sirius was quick to answer. "She betrayed the trust of all those who were sworn to protect her, and her brother, and in doing so she put dozens of lives at risk. I cannot forget that, not that quickly."

"Did she betray your cause?"

"What she did was betrayal enough." Sirius snapped in reply.

"Did she?"

"No," he admitted, shaking his head, "on that count she is completely innocent."

"So do you not admire her for the pains she went through in order to protect such vital information?"

"I never said I did not admire her for what she sacrificed," he shot back quickly, "it's just that I do not care for the end result."

"Very well, thank you." She motioned with her hand for him to return to his seat. It was with sad eyes that Kathryn watched her Godfather as he walked away from twelve pairs of curious eyes. She knew that they had been thrown by Sirius' full-throated criticism of her actions, considering the positive comments made by all those who had gone before. Of anyone she cared for, aside from Harry, he was one from whom she most desired forgiveness. She knew that he was angry, and he had a right to be so, but she had hoped for something better than this.

"Would Harry Potter please approach the bench?" the final member of the Wizengamot, a witch with a plump face, thick auburn hair and thick glasses, took her turn to speak. Harry had been wondering when they were going to ask for his input, and it appeared that they had sought to save the best, and potentially most sensational, for last. From the look he saw on Rita Skeeter's face as he took his place, he could tell that she was hoping for some lurid tale of sibling rivalry that simmered beneath a veneer of unity.

"Your full name, for the record?" the witch asked, just like all those before had been asked.

"Harry James Potter," he obliged, "and, no, I am not currently employed."

"Thank you, now," she cast a quick glance at her noted, "can you confirm that it was Mr. Malfoy who lied to his Master about yours, and your sister's, survival?"

"Yes. I mean, I had my eyes closed, but I knew who it was."

"How could you tell if you could not see?"

"Over the past two years I have spent far longer in his company than I would ever have expected," Harry explained patiently, "it stands to reason that I would recognise his voice."

"Very well. Did you hear anything of what he aid to your sister?"

"If I had, our survival would have no longer been a secret."

"So you had no idea of what was going on?"

"No." Harry shook his head.

"Did it surprise you?"

"Lucius Malfoy had just told Voldemort that we were dead so, yeah, I think you could call me surprised." Harry raised an eyebrow at the woman, seemingly questioning the need for him to answer the most obvious of questions. "It was quite a feat not to react to that."

"What did you think was going on?"

"I didn't really know what to think, I mean, it could have all been an elaborate ploy, but I had no way of knowing." He explained, finding it quite difficult to articulate what he had felt at that moment in time. "I just decided to wait. It didn't make much sense to try something stupid then and there, but it gave us one more chance."

"At that point, did you trust him?"

"I suppose I had to," he shrugged, "there wasn't exactly an alternative."

"Quite," she scratched off a note, "had you seen Mr. Malfoy at any point during the fighting?"

"I caught a glimpse of him in the castle, but only briefly, and then I saw him duelling with my sister in the forest."

"They fought?"

"Well, just for show."

"What was it like to watch?"

"It was, well, amazing!" Harry admitted with a slight laugh. "I know that it was only for show, but they didn't hold back. Every curse and hex was real. We'd practised duelling, obviously, but I had never seen anything like that before."

"How do you mean?"

"They were equally matched," he started to explain after a short pause, "not what you would expect in a duel between a nineteen year old and a Death Eater with his kind of experience."

"You were impressed?"

"It was a sight to see," Harry shrugged, "and we all certainly thought it was real."

"Did you see him at any point after that?"

"I caught a glimpse of him when the fighting moved into the castle, but only for a moment."

"What was he doing?"

"Well, he was fighting, like the rest of the Death Eaters, but I'm sure I saw him block a curse that was heading for Hermione."

"Really?"

"It was chaos, so I couldn't be sure, but a curse heading for Hermione was deflected and the only one near enough to do that was Lucius Malfoy."

"I see," she shuffled to the next page of her notes, "now, going back to before the discovery of their relationship, why did you not raise the issue of the time she spent in his company to your Godfather, or Professor Dumbledore."

"I trusted her."

"Why?"

"Because she is my sister." Harry shrugged, not really knowing any better reason.

"Surely there must be more to it than that?"

"I can't think of any better reason."

"But even though you trusted her, why did you let her place herself so close to someone so dangerous? How did you not inform your Godfather, or any of your Professors?"

"Because I believed that she could do it," he smiled, "you know, get information out of him."

"What made you believe that?"

"She's always been better at this than me," he explained slowly, "at, well, I don't really know how to explain it!" he ran his hands through his hair, searching for the right words. "She knows how to capture someone's attention and, as I'm sure you're well aware, she can be very persuasive." Harry's smirk spoke volumes to those watching, indicating that there was much that was not known about the Wizengamot's dealings with his sister.

"Yes, we had noticed that particular talent." She remarked dryly, looking far from amused.

"She knows how to use her influence too," he went on, "and how to move in political circles, in a way that I have never really been able to."

"Why not?"

"She's more patient than me for one thing," he chuckled, "and far more cunning!"

"Has she always been cunning?"

"I'd say so, but she's got better at it over the past two years!"

"How so?"

"She's had a good teacher." Harry shrugged, inclining his head towards Lucius. "But whatever she may be; I believe that she had about as good a chance as anyone at getting information out of Lucius Malfoy. Besides, I saw the way he looked at her and it was obvious that she had some kind of hold over him. That's why I didn't tell anyone."

"Very well, now, moving on," she glanced at her notes, her many rings clicking together as she shuffled the pages, "am I right in assuming that you too felt considerably hurt by the revelation of their affair?"

"I think hurt is a bit of an understatement." He replied coolly, not meeting Kathryn's eye. "It was crushing, knowing that she had lied to us for that long."

"Does that knowledge still affect you as badly as it did two months ago?"

"When I think about it, yeah, I suppose it does."

"Does this mean you try not to think about it?" she asked, picking up on his wording.

"It's difficult to forget, and I can't exactly claim that we haven't fought over the issue, but I am trying my best to focus on the positives of the situation. We are both alive, and my sister is happy."

"There are those who would consider your sister's contentment to be far from a positive outcome." She commented, recalling the widespread coverage of the whole affair.

"My sister deserves happiness, no matter how she has chosen to conduct her private affairs." Harry's voice was sure and firm, leaving no one in any doubt as to his personal opinions. "Despite what you may consider it, her betrayal was personal and not political and she has punished herself enough."

"Does that distinction mean anything?" she asked sharply. "Considering that the political and social implications of your cause were inextricably linked with your own lives?"

"I still see a difference between the two, yes;" Harry nodded solemnly, "the personal nature of what she did means that she has no need to answer to this court for what she did. The only people she should have to answer to are her friends."

"So why is she here, if she has no need to answer for what she did?"

"She is here, firstly, because you want her to be and would accept nothing else. Secondly, it is because she realises that this is the only way to put an end to inaccurate journalism and malicious gossip." He shot a very pointed look towards Rita Skeeter as he spoke.

"Very well," although she did not appear totally satisfied, she moved on, "you mentioned before that you tried to focus on the positive when thinking about your sister's relationship, but can there really be a positive outcome?" she raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Like I said, she is happy," Harry shrugged, "and it is very obvious that he cares for her."

"It sounds like you approve of her relationship?"

"Well, I suppose I've gotten used to the idea over the past couple of months." He explained, running his fingers through his messy hair. "I always felt a bit guilty, you know; when we were at school, because we all paired off. She never complained, but I didn't want her to feel like she was alone. At this moment in time, I do not think that there is anyone who could respect or value her more." There was a significant pause after that particular statement; the entire room taking a minute or two to get to grips with the idea of Harry Potter being comfortable with the scandal that had enveloped his sister.

"Do you intend to infer that you have a high opinion of Mr. Malfoy?"

"Well, I think my opinion of him has certainly improved over the past two months." Harry sighed, searching for the right words. "Obviously I can't really say that I am ok with everything that happened, but I can't really see my sister changing her mind any time soon."

"Do you think that other people should also try to consider their relationship in a different light?" she suggested, her quill poised to make notes.

"I think that there is certainly more to Mr. Malfoy than meets the eye," he explained, "but it will take time for people to realise that. The bottom line is that people are afraid of something that they cannot understand."

"I think people are also afraid of the potential power such a relationship could have," she cut in quickly, "considering his past activity and your sister's undeniable influence."

"Their relationship is already powerful; there is no question of that." Harry replied dryly. "I though the past two weeks had made that fairly evident?"

"Well," she hesitated, realising that he was right, "the ends to which they could use that power are certainly a cause for concern."

"The only reason people are afraid is because it is different!" Harry snapped back, his voice rising slightly. "But we cannot go on living in fear, not again, and we have to accept that a person's character is never as clear-cut as you appear to wish Mr. Malfoy's to be."

At that point Kathryn did want to stand up and applaud the sense with which her brother was approaching the situation, however she was sure that it would not be considered appropriate, and so remained in her seat. Looking down the row and around the room, however, she could see several faces that seemed to be considering what he had said with real concentration.

"On that note, do you think that Mr. Malfoy should be punished for his actions?"

"Which ones?" Harry asked with raised eyebrows. "Being a Death Eater, or what he did to my sister?"

"Both."

"He was a Death Eater, yes," Harry conceded, "but his account of his actions has been backed up by Professor Snape and there is not enough there to warrant a long term in Azkaban." Down in his chair, Lucius could hardly believe that Harry Potter was arguing against his imprisonment. "His actions that night, however you wish to see them, made our victory possible and such a contribution should not go unrecognised."

"And your sister?"

"My sister does not wish to see him held to account for what he did. She has given you the details out of courtesy rather than a desire to see him punished and I hope that shall be taken into consideration when deliberating your verdict."

"But do you wish to see him punished?" she pushed her original question, her eyes willing him to say yes.

"No." the entire room gave a sudden gasp and then fell silent.

"Why not?"

"It was a private matter and it has been settled privately," he shrugged, "and everyone should be satisfied with that, even the Wizengamot."

"Thank you." She replied stiffly, shuffling her notes into a neat pile. "You may return to your seat." Relieved, and believing he had done the best he possibly could, Harry sighed and walked slowly back to his seat. He knew he had done well when he saw his sister's face. She wasn't beaming, but her face had an expression of contentment across it that he had not seen in a long while.

"Thank you." She whispered, squeezing his hand as he sat back down next to her. "You are a good brother."

"He saved my life," Harry whispered back, "I think I owe him the benefit of the doubt." A throaty cough from Fudge sounded through the muttering and they, along with the rest of the hall, looked towards where the Minister sat.

"Yes, well, that concludes today's session." He closed the purple file that lay before him. "We shall reconvene in," he glanced down at a sheet of parchment, "one week." Before Kathryn could raise any objection, the purple robed wizards and witches stood and exited the vast chamber.

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A/N - Well, I hope you enjoyed that....and in the next chapter you can look forward to the reappearance of Draco Malfoy. I assure you, there shall be fireworks!!!


	87. Chapter 87

A/N - You may notice that this chapter does not appear to be totally complete...and that's because it isn't.

Tomorrow afternoon (9th March) I'm leaving for Australia and, if things go to plan, I won't be back until Christmas. Unfortunately, I can't take my laptop with me, so this story will have to stay tucked safely away on my hard drive until I can return fresh with new ideas. It's a shame because I have so much that I know I want to write, but the trip of a lifetime can't wait forever!! Sorry for waiting until the last minute to tell you, but I thought it best just to get as much written of this chapter as I could, so I could give it as something of a parting gift. It is by no means complete, but hopefully it will give you some kind of idea as to how things will progress once I get back.

Of course, there are still computers Down Under, so I will be able to read any lovely reviews people would like to leave me and that will make my trip even better! Needless to say I am taking a notebook to jot down an inspiration thoughts I have/sights I may see (of which there will be plenty).

Now, all that remains is to thank all those who read my story and leave me reviews, you really do brighten my day. And I must reassre you that after five years of writing, and 160,000 minutes of work (a lot) I am certainly not abandoning this work. I full intend to see it through to the end, whenever that may be!

So, enjoy what there is here, and I'll see you on the other side of the world!!

Reesybaby xx

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"One week?" Kathryn hissed as people stood and began to head for the doors. "Why the delay?"

"Dunno?" Harry shrugged as they too stood up. "Maybe just to annoy you?"

"I hope so. I'll meet you in the Atrium." She sighed, taking the steps down from their seats at a quick pace; reaching Lucius in a matter of seconds. She was given a wide berth by all others passing, most regarding her suspiciously, but she had gotten used to that.

"A week?" he asked with a raised eyebrow as she gave him a quick kiss.

"That's what I said." She sighed as Scrimgeour finally released the chains that held him down. "Needless to say the Minister and I are going to have a little chat." She finished with a smile as he folded her into his arms.

"How did you think that went?" he asked after a moment's silence.

"Well, I guess I knew what was coming from Sirius," she shrugged with a frown, "but I think the rest could be seen as positive, and I think I have a very good brother."

"I think you do too," he murmured in her ear, "and very good friends, although I don't like being reminded of that little episode on Flourish and Blott's."

"I can imagine!" she giggled. "Although I would have paid good money to see it."

"I'll show you the memory some time." Any further conversation was halted with a rather unsubtle cough from Scrimgeour. Rolling his eyes, he kept an arm firmly clamped around her waist as they were escorted to the doors of the courtroom.

"Hopefully I'll see you before next week." She whispered in his ear as he kissed her goodbye; his arms crushing her to his chest, as if he would never let her go.

"Be careful with Fudge," he cautioned her in return, "I'd rather he didn't have cause to make you join me." After a final, bruising kiss, he was pulled away through the concealed door by the Aurors and she was left alone.

It was a short ride up to the Atrium in the golden elevator, and a quick walk over to where Harry was standing by the fountain with Ron, Hermione and Ginny.

"Where's everyone else?" she asked, looking around for any sign of the Weasleys or Sirius.

"Back to number twelve," Harry informed her, "and back to work."

"Of course."

"What are you going to do now?" Hermione asked, hoping that her friend was not just going to disappear back off to the Manor.

"Well, I need to go and speak to Fudge," she explained with an impish smirk, "but if you don't mind waiting, I was thinking a spot of tea and cake is in order. I mean, after today, it's the least I can do."

"Sure, we'll wait." Harry smiled at his sister. "Go see Fudge and we'll meet you back here."

"Thanks!" she smiled brightly and turned on her heel, heading back towards the elevators.

"Try not to do too much damage!" Ron called out jokingly after her.

The journey to the Minister's office didn't take long; most people electing to take a different lift to the one she stepped into. Percy Weasley was sitting at his desk, just like he had been the last time she was there; his head bent studiously over some document.

"Is he in Percy?" she asked confidently, making Percy jump about an inch off his chair in fright.

"Miss Potter, oh, no," he sputtered, pushing his horn-rimmed glasses further up his nose, "but he's due back any minute."

"Well I'll just wait inside then." Slipping into the opulent office, she closed the door with a click and perched herself on the edge of the old, well polished desk. For someone who could get so flustered, it was a surprisingly neat space. Papers were in neat stacks, or carefully collated in tidily labelled files, and there was not a sign of an over-stuffed drawer. Of course, this could all be down to the fastidious organisational skills of Percy Weasley as opposed to the office's occupant.

The rest of the room was generally impressive; but she supposed it had to be. It was high ceilinged, just like the outer office, and had had tall windows that were flanked by heavy royal blue drapes that matched the upholstery on the chairs and contrasted with the muesli coloured carpet. A handsome Persian rug sat invitingly before the fireplace, where a large ornate clock ticked away the minutes. There was plenty of art on the walls, including one grimy brown canvas tucked in a corner, its occupant elsewhere for the time being.

Fudge's arrival was signalled by the scrape of a chair, presumably as Percy jumped up from his seat, and the mutter of conversation through the heavy doors. She hoped that Percy wouldn't tell Fudge that she was there, preferring to maintain the element of surprise. Opening the door, Fudge strode through in a distracted manner; gazing intently at a piece of parchment in his hand. Glancing up, his eyes sprang wide and he jumped at least a foot backwards as he caught sight of her sitting brazenly upon his desk.

"Miss … Potter!" he choked, clamping a hand over his heart in shock.

"Good afternoon Minister!" she smiled sweetly, as if it was perfectly normal for her to be in his office unannounced. "Why the delay?"

"Excuse me?" her crossed legs afforded a view of enough pale, smooth thigh to make Fudge unsure where to look. He settled for the painting of the Thames that hung behind his desk.

"You have adjourned for the week, and considering your desire for swift justice, I want to know why." She explained bluntly, fixing him with an uncompromising stare.

"Believe it or not, Miss Potter," he wrinkled his nose as he spoke her name, "the workings of the Wizengamot do not revolve around you."

"I never suggested that it did." She contradicted him calmly, not wanting to start an argument, at least, not yet. "I am merely curious."

"Other Death Eaters need to be brought before the Wizengamot, Miss Potter," he ventured closer to the desk, shrugging off his cloak, "ones who will not have the support that your Mr. Malfoy enjoys."

"I cannot help that he deserves to be spared Azkaban," she shrugged, "he managed that on his own."

"Whatever outcome you desire," he tried to be as diplomatic as possible; knowing that, despite how much he resented it, she was destined to become even more powerful than she already was, "I will not have the Wizengamot's progress to be halted on the whim of one young woman."

"So who are you going to be sentencing this week?" she, in turn, did her best to be civil.

"Rabastan Lestrange," he cast a glance at the sheaf of parchment he had brought in with him, "Yaxley, Thorfinn Rowle and, ah yes, Draco Malfoy."

"I see." She tried to sound as nonchalant as possible.

"Surely that should interest you?" Fudge raised an eyebrow, knowing that she was more interested than she let on. "Given what you have invested in the situation."

"I suppose so," she shrugged in a noncommittal manner, "when were you planning to hold the hearing?"

"Wednesday afternoon, at two o'clock."

"Do you think it reasonable for his father to be in attendance?" she asked curiously, fixing him with an uncompromising stare.

"Absolutely not."

"Give me one good reason why."

"It makes him look innocent." Fudge spat angrily.

"So have him guarded," she shrugged, "it makes you look in control."

"He has no logical reason to be there."

"It's his son!" she exclaimed, finally sliding off the edge of the desk. "What better reason does he need?"

"What's your reason?" he asked pointedly. "You obviously have one."

"I want to send a message," she conceded, "I want him to see how things stand."

"I do not want you creating a scene." Fudge hissed in an aggravated fashion. "I've had enough of that."

"I do not wish to make a scene," she shot back tersely; "I just want to make sure that Draco is fully aware of where I stand. Besides, have you thought that other members of the Wizengamot might wish to hear from Mr. Malfoy in order to ascertain the depth of his son's involvement with the Death Eaters?" from the way Fudge's face fell, it appeared that he had not.

"Well…" he sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat, "when you put it like that…" his voice trailed off.

"I'll leave you to make the necessary arrangements then." Her calm, clipped voice filled the silence.

"Very well." Fudge sighed again, knowing that she would accept no other answer.

"Until Wednesday." Giving him a curt nod, she swept from the office; saying a quick goodbye to Percy before stepping into the nearest available elevator.

"The building's still standing, I'm impressed." Ron quipped as she rejoined them at the fountain.

"I assume it went well?" Harry asked, sliding off the edge of the fountain where he had been sitting with Ginny.

"Well enough, yes," she nodded, "Fudge was more amenable than I expected. Anyway, who's for tea and cake?" they all nodded in agreement, Ron with particular enthusiasm.

"So why is he delaying this for a week?" Hermione asked as they walked towards the visitor's exit.

"To allow other trials to start," she shrugged, "not as sinister as I had believed."

"Did he tell you who?" Ginny asked curiously. "We haven't heard anything yet. I think it's just going to be announced on the day, at least, that's what Dad and Tonks say."

"Rabastan Lestrange," she counted off on her finger, "Yaxley, Rowle and, for the piece de résistance, Malfoy."

"Malfoy!" Ron exclaimed, stopping dead in his tracks.

"Keep your voice down." Kathryn hissed as they all squeezed into the red phone box that would take them up to ground level.

"What does he want to do," Ron continued as they spilled out by her car, "start a fight in the courtroom?"

"I hope not," Kathryn brushed off her coat, "he said he didn't want me to make a scene, but I think Draco's perfectly capable of doing that on his own."

"Why didn't he want you to make a scene?" Harry asked as he slid into the car. "Did you plan on making one?"

"No." Kathryn paused and turned to the driver. "Diagon Alley, please." He gave her a silent nod; closing the door after her once she had slid into her seat. "I don't plan on causing a scene, but I wouldn't want to bet against something happening."

"Malfoy's going to be pissed at you, I mean, that's obvious." Ron drawled from his seat opposite Kathryn. "But you're not exactly going to try and get him angry deliberately, are you?"

"Well, that's not the idea, but…" Kathryn's voice trailed off.

"But what?" Hermione asked inquisitively.

"But I'll be sitting next to Lucius," she revealed with a sigh, "so I think I can safely say his reaction will be bad."

"How the hell did you manage that" Harry asked incredulously.

"Fudge brought it up and I suggested that it wouldn't be unreasonable for Lucius to attend. He came round to the idea eventually."

"Why do you want to put yourself through that?" Ginny piped up. "Think of the field day Rita Skeeter's going to have!"

"It's to send a message," Kathryn explained, although in more detail then she had to Fudge, "Draco has to be made aware of how things stand, and my being there alone would not do that."

"So when is it?" Harry asked.

"Wednesday afternoon, I'd arrive early to get a good seat." She informed them with a laugh as they pulled into the dingy yard behind the Leaky Cauldron.

"Will there be anything else?" the driver asked politely as he held the car door open once again.

"No," Kathryn shook her head, "I'll just apparate back. Thank you."

"Very well." With a dutiful nod, he slipped back into the driver's seat and the car rolled silently away.

"Right," she flicked her hair over her shoulder with a bright smile, "let's get some cake!" without a flicker of worry, she strode confidently through the archway into Diagon Alley.

In the end, they ordered a large plate of sandwiches as well as cake; having eaten very little since breakfast.

"Did you see yesterday's Prophet?" Harry asked between mouthfuls of a ham and Pease Pudding sandwich.

"Not really," she shrugged, taking a sip of coffee, "anything interesting?"

"Colin sold you out." Ron offered, trying not to spray crumbs all over the table as he spoke.

"How?"

"He's sold pictures of you and Lucius to the Prophet." Hermione clarified.

"Which ones?" Kathryn couldn't think of any time when Colin Creevey had taken a photo of her and Lucius. "Was he taking photos last week or something?"

"He took them in school," Harry continued, "but you didn't know he did. I don't think anyone knew he had those kinds of pictures."

"What do you mean, 'those kinds of pictures?" in response to her question, Hermione produced the clippings from her bag. "Oh." Kathryn's face fell as she cast her eyes over the images. They had once been intensely private moments, but were now laid out for the public to see.

"Do you think it's good or bad?" Ginny asked, moving on to her slice of carrot cake.

"I don't know," Kathryn shook her head, "I mean I suppose they show a different side to the relationship," her fingers shuffled through the images, "but on the other hand it doesn't exactly do me any favours. I mean, you can tell how much we enjoyed having our little secret." With a sigh, she set the clippings down and pulled over her choice of cake; a butterscotch sponge with a shiny topping of cream-cheese icing.

"They're photos and people will think of them what they want." Harry shrugged, taking a bite of brownie. "Not much you can do about it now anyway."

"True," his sister sighed, "there are more important things after all."

"So, moving on," Hermione said as she stuck her fork into a slice of coffee cake, "do you really think today went well?"

"I think it could have been a lot worse, but the questioning seemed fair, and I think they actually gave him a chance."

"It was definitely informative," Ginny added, "I wouldn't have thought he would be so, well, candid."

"Neither did I." Kathryn confessed; having also been quite shocked by the detail Lucius had included in his statements. "And under normal circumstances, I don't think he would have ever gone into such detail."

"Well, I suppose he has to," Hermione offered, "considering what's at stake."

"But you helped too." Kathryn reminded her. "You all did. I don't think anyone expected you to come out with statements in my favour."

"And don't forget Dumbledore." Ron added, swallowing a large mouthful of treacle tart. "Blood hell you should have seen some people's faces. Rita Skeeter looked like she's swallowed a Dungbomb!"

Another hour, and two more rounds of tea and coffee later, Kathryn bade her friends goodbye and apparated straight back to the Manor. Taking care not to apparate directly to the front gates, she instead appeared several hundred metres to their right; hidden from any lurking journalists by a thick copse of trees. Picking her way through the greenery, she reached the walls that enclosed the grounds and, after a couple of attempts, found what she wanted. Tapping her wand on the stone that was eight along, four down and two left from the darkest stone in that section of the wall; a discreet archway appeared, just like the entrance to Diagon Alley. Slipping through, she made sure the entryway sealed behind her before apparating straight to the Entrance Hall.

Once she was changed and sat in the upstairs drawing room with the morning copy of the Daily Prophet, she was once again struck by how empty the house felt without Lucius there. When considering the day's events, however, she found that she could afford some measure of hope, however small it might be. It was with this comforting thought that she fell asleep that night, hoping that she would not be sleeping in an empty bed for much longer.

On Wednesday afternoon, it felt like half of Hogwarts had descended on the Ministry to attend Draco Malfoy's trial. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny were sat together in a tight huddle; their eyes scanning the room for faces they recognised. Dumbledore was again present, along with Professor Snape; the pair of the sitting in the front row looking grave. Despite the hum of gossip, a hush did fall over the room as Lucius Malfoy was escorted into the room by two Aurors. He took his place in a small, roped off section of the seating, with a perfect view of the chair so similar to the one he had occupied in courtroom number ten.

"Where's Kathryn?" Hermione whispered as the clock struck two.

"No idea." Harry whispered back as the Wizengamot filed silently in.

Up in the atrium, Kathryn was doing her best to politely excuse herself from conversation with the Chief Healer of St. Mungo's. She knew her late arrival would be frowned upon, considering what she had promised Fudge. With a few well chosen words, and a promise to finish the conversation at a later date, she hurried in the direction of the subterranean courtrooms.

With a nod from Fudge, the doors opened and Draco Malfoy was led in. It would have been somewhat charitable to say that he looked haggard. His clothes were crumpled and bore the distinct signs of having been worn for a considerable period of time. His hair was unkempt and he looked like he could do with a good shave. It was a far cry from how well kept Lucius had looked when he had arrived for the beginning of his trial, although Harry knew that was entirely due to his sister's intervention.

Hi watery grey eyes scanned the rows of seated observers as he was chained into place, his eyes fixing on an all too familiar blond head. Harry, along with the rest of the room, was transfixed as Draco's face contorted with anger.

"WHERE IS SHE?" he bellowed hoarsely, his eyes fixed upon his father. "WHERE IS SHE?"

"Mr. Malfoy control yourself." Fudge said authoritatively, as if hoping such a warning would put him off any further outburst. It didn't.

"WHERE'S YOUR WHORE?" he screamed again.

"I will not warn you again." Fudge looked ready at any moment to order the Aurors to subdue him.

"WHERE IS SHE?" that final yell was flowed by the creak of the main doors opening and closing. In one swift movement, every head in the room turned to regard the late arrival. Standing at the end of the room, Kathryn looked stunned to have walked in on such a scene. She raised her eyebrows as if to say 'Who, me?' before squaring her shoulders and striding confidently towards the head of the room. She was dressed today in a figure-hugging pencil skirt that began just under her bust and finished at her knees. A pair of braces, embellished with pewter beading, began at her hips; where the beading formed a feather-like shape, and snaked over her shoulder and down the back of the skirt. Tucked into the skirt she was wearing a loose, translucent cream silk blouse with a ruffled neckline that hung quite open, revealing just a glimpse of the lace of her underwear, and sleeves that were rolled up to her elbows. A jet black fur stole was clutched in one hand and Lucius' cane in the other.

"You are late, Miss Potter." Fudge commented as she drew nearer.

"My apologies Minister," she replied politely, "I was detained on my way."

"WHORE!" Draco shouted again as she drew level with his seat. She made no reply, fixing him only with an icy stare before turning sharply on her heel and climbing the small flight of stairs towards the cordoned off section where Lucius was sitting. This Malfoy she greeted with a smile and a fleeting kiss as she sank down into the seat next to him; crossing her legs neatly and waiting for Fudge to continue.

"Are you quite finished, Mr. Malfoy?" fudge asked one final time. "For if you continue in this vein you shall be removed from this courtroom and the hearing conducted in your absence." Draco's head nodded in submission; watching out of the corner of his eye as his father wrapped an arm round the waist of the one person he despised most.

"That was painful." Kathryn murmured in Lucius' ear, getting as close to the comforting curve of his body as she dared.

"You took it well." He reassured her in a similarly hushed tone. She wanted to reply, but there was no more conversation as Fudge cleared his throat in order to finally begin what hey had come to observe.

* * *

A/N - Her outfit for Draco's hearing is by the late, great Alexander McQueen.


	88. Chapter 88

A/N - Right, my profuse apologies for how late this update is compared to my original estimate...I have had massive computer issues to deal with (let's just say thank Merlin that I put my story onto a pen drive and carried it with me all throughout Australia for safekeeping), heaps of work to do so I can pay my parents back the money I owe them, obviously tons of friends to catch up with after a year of being basically awol from my normal social life whilst trying to figure out how best I can spend the rest of my life in Australia! It's been a busy two months!

But here you are, an update (at last, I hear you sigh!) and I hope you like it...it was quite strange to try and get back used to writing after having had such a long break! Hope you enjoy it and I look forward to hearing any comments you have! My apologies once more, happy reading!

Reesybaby x

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"Now, after that absurd display," Fudge resumed, "let us begin." He glanced down at his papers before returning his eyes to the dishevelled Malfoy that was sat before him. "Draco Malfoy, you have been brought before this court to answer for your crimes as a Death Eater, how do you plead?"

"Not guilty." Draco's predictable reply was delivered in a rather more subdued tone to his previous outburst.

"Duly noted," a clerk's quill dashed across parchment, "then what explanation do you offer for the presence of the Dark Mark upon your arm?" an Auror stepped forwards and yanked up Draco's sleeve so that all might see the irrefutable proof.

"I did not take the Dark Mark willingly." He replied stiffly.

"Eagerly more like." Lucius whispered in her ear.

"In what way were you unwilling to offer your service to the Dark Lord?" Fudge probed, looking intently at Malfoy from his elevated position.

"I did not want to die." Draco drawled in a bored fashion.

"Surely if you believed that the Dark Lord was to be victorious, how could you justify having such a fear?"

"Victory did not mean that we would be safer than those that fought against us."

"How do you mean?"

"Any failure on our part was unacceptable."

"So, if you were as unwilling as you suggest, who was it that enforced your membership? Who demanded that you join, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named himself?" Fudge raised his eyebrows questioningly, his eyes flitting ever so quickly over to where Lucius and Kathryn were sitting.

"My Aunt was very insistent," Draco offered, "she considered it to be a great honour for the family."

"That would be Bellatrix Lestrange, yes?"

"Yes." Draco hesitated a moment before continuing his answer. "And my Father wanted me to join too." His eyes flicked towards his father, as did the eyes of everyone in the courtroom.

"Well that was predictable." Kathryn murmured, shooting Draco a scathing look; making it plain to Draco that she knew that he was lying through his teeth. She returned her gaze to Fudge to see where he was going to go next.

"So when was it that you took the Dark Mark?"

"I was forced to take it just before my seventh year at Hogwarts."

"Yet, as I understand it, you were involved in the debacle at Hogwarts with the Death Eaters at the tail end of your sixth year. How do you explain your actions with regards to that?"

"I was cleared of any wrongdoing on that account." Draco protested, a petulant look flitting across his face for the smallest of instants.

"Yes, but your subsequent actions have thrown that decision into question. As it is, the reason you have been brought before this court seems to contradict everything you said in your defence three years ago. Can you offer us any plausible explanation?"

"Well obviously I could not refuse what was asked of me, not if I valued my life." Draco shrugged. "I had no choice. He would have killed my family if I had refused an order."

"Surely the risk was the same for all those who served He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named," Fudge suggested, "you were in no more danger than any other of his servants."

"But I did not want to be involved in any of it," Draco protested, "unlike the others."

"Very well," Fudge did not look satisfied with his answer but appeared to be prepared to let it slide for the time being, "if that is your answer let us move on to your involvement, voluntary or not, with the Death Eaters." Fudge appeared to have a list of dates on the parchment before him, which he glanced at before continuing. "Due to the fact that you were in school, I assume that you could not have been involved in most of the major incidents that have occurred over the past three years. Your activities during the school holidays, however, must be called into question."

"I was never involved in anything that happened when I was in school." Draco confirmed Fudge's suspicions. "I was meant to remain as inconspicuous as possible whilst in Hogwarts and besides, it would have been too hard to get out of the grounds."

"What, then, was your purpose whilst you were at school? I cannot see how you were of use to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named when you could not leave the castle grounds."

"Whilst I was at school, I was meant to be a spy within the castle. I could be there to keep watch on Potter and his sister, and their friends."

"Something he did not do well." Harry whispered to Ron and Hermione.

"Did you manage to glean anything useful from your observations?"

"Not often," Draco admitted in a sombre voice, "they were too well organised to let much about their activities slip. But I was at least able to let the Dark Lord know what they were teaching in their little DA meetings," there was a brief flash of his familiar smirk across his face, as if he considered this a victory against the brother and sister he so despised, "even they couldn't stop people talking about what they did."

"How did such information benefit your Master?"

"It meant that he knew something of the resistance that was to be offered when the time came to take Hogwarts by force."

"Not that it did him much good." Fudge scoffed casually. Draco looked just about ready to start shouting again, but appeared to check himself just in time. "So, let us take the example of last Easter," Fudge continued after glancing at his papers, "according to the records we obtained from Hogwarts, you left the castle that holiday but we know from what Miss Potter has told us that you were most definitely not at home. Where were you?"

"I went to stay with my girlfriend, Pansy Parkinson." Across the courtroom Kathryn noticed Pansy shrink back in her seat, hoping that no one would notice her in the tightly packed benches.

"There were several attacks that Easter on both Muggles and wizards, were you summoned to participate in any of them?"

"Yes." Draco's eyes were downcast.

"How many?"

"All of them."

"And what of the attacks carried out last summer, how many of those were you involved in?"

"Most of them, I think, I can't remember which ones." He answered calmly, even though he knew that he was probably incriminating himself in the eyes of the Wizengamot.

"Who participated in those attacks?"

"It varied every time," Draco shrugged casually, "sometimes I didn't even know them all."

"Was your father ever there for any of these raids?" Kathryn understood that with this question Fudge was trying to clarify what Lucius had told him the previous week.

"Maybe a couple."

"And what about your aunt, Bellatrix Lestrange, and other more established Death Eaters?"

"Some of them, like my father, were only there when our target was considered a threat. My Aunt was there more often."

"Why was that?"

"Because she liked it." Draco drawled, looking thoroughly bored. "I thought that was obvious to most people?"

"And what of your involvement in the Battle at Hogwarts, did you fight with the Death Eaters when you were summoned?"

"Yes, I would have been in more danger if I had not gone."

"And so that brings us to where we are today. You were apprehended on the battlefield at Hogwarts by members of the Auror Office in possession of a wand that was not your own whilst engaged in a duel with members of the Order of the Phoenix. For all you have said before this court today, these are not the actions of one who was doing this against their will." To this Draco had no reply.

"Perhaps this would be a good time to hear testimony from those who knew you during your time at Hogwarts, in order to better verify your account." Fudge continued, motioning to the witch on his left.

"Would Neville Longbottom please step forwards." The white haired witch with the pince-nez spoke, her eyes searching the courtroom for any sign of Neville. Looking slightly stunned at being chosen first, Neville got shakily to his feet and moved to the front of the courtroom.

"Now, Mr. Longbottom," she bestowed a friendly smile upon Neville before beginning her questions, "you attended Hogwarts with Mr. Malfoy, is that correct?"

"Yes," Neville hesitated a moment, clearing his throat, "yes it is."

"So you shared many classes with Mr. Malfoy, did you not?"

"Yes, a fair few of them."

"How did he behave towards other students?"

"He was, well," Neville cast a quick look at his former tormentor before continuing, "he was a bully."

"And were you one of his targets?"

"I was," Neville nodded solemnly, "but it didn't take much to merit his disdain."

"Who else did he victimise?" she asked curiously. "And by that I mean not so much the specific individuals, but more the particular groups."

"Well, he always found the time to mock you if you were somewhat poorer that him," Neville recounted, "or if you had problems with your studies."

"Anything else that particularly garnered his attention?"

"If you were Muggle born, well, that meant you were in for the worst of it." From where she was sat, Kathryn watched as Hermione gazed coldly at Draco; no doubt remembering the number of times he had tormented her on such account.

"So, essentially, his most frequent victims were those that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named also sought to eliminate from our society."

"Yes." Neville's agreement with that statement could not have been doubted by anyone who had come to witness.

"When did it start?"

"He has been cruel from the moment he stepped onto the Hogwarts Express," Neville's voice did not waiver as he recalled the number of humiliations he had suffered for Malfoy's amusement, "but he started with the blood purity stuff in our second year."

"That does seem to somewhat contradict the account he has just given us."

"Well, that's how it was," Neville shrugged, "and I'm sure there are many who will confirm what I have just told you."

"That may be, Mr. Longbottom, but for now," she glanced down at her notes, "would you please oblige us with any details you have of Mr. Malfoy's participation in the Battle of Hogwarts."

"I didn't really see him much," Neville replied frankly, "I noticed that he wasn't there in the Great Hall with the rest of Slytherin when the evacuation began. After that, I saw him fighting in the castle."

"Which side did he appear to be on?"

"He was wearing Death Eater robes," Neville explained, "and he was duelling with other students who were definitely on our side."

"What curses was he using, if you noticed any in particular?"

"Well I was a bit busy," Neville's reply was somewhat drier than his previous answers, "but I'm sure I heard him using, or at least trying to use the Cruciatus curse."

"You say he was attempting the Cruciatus curse, was he not successful?"

"One of them was deflected by a shield charm, the second missed and before he could try a third time members of the Order of the Phoenix arrived and he fled."

"Was this the only time you saw him?"

"Up until the final moments of the battle, yes, but even then I only saw him briefly."

"I see. Now, although you only saw him briefly, did his actions seem to be those of someone acting against their will?"

"No, they did not." Neville's response was instant and firm.

"Thank you Mr. Longbottom, you may resume your seat." Looking relieved, Neville returned to his seat next to Luna. Clearing her throat, the plump witch with greying auburn hair addressed the room.

"Would Hermione Granger please step forward?"

"Oh lord," she heard Hermione murmur to Ron and Harry, "here goes nothing." Draco sneered as she drew close but Hermione merely stared defiantly back, hoping that he at least regretted all the times he had ever called her 'Mudblood'.

"Miss Granger; am I correct in saying that you are of Muggle descent?" the witch cut straight to the heart of the matter, leaving no one in an doubt of why she had called Hermione forward to give evidence.

"Yes, I am Muggle born." Hermione confirmed. "My parents are dentists."

"And you, like Mr. Longbottom, were in the same school year as Draco Malfoy?"

"Yes, I encountered Draco Malfoy on my first day at Hogwarts."

"What was your first impression of him?"

"Well, I can't say that our meeting was anything dramatic. I just observed that he seemed to be a somewhat stuck up, unpleasant kind of boy." Though Kathryn was sure that Hermione could utter far more vitriolic thoughts about Malfoy, her friend remained restrained and collected before the Wizengamot in order to ensure her comments were taken seriously.

"When did you form a more concrete opinion on him?"

"It didn't take me long to see that I was right in my initial assessment," Hermione explained, "though he presented an acceptable face to his teachers, he was mean and cruel to all those he considered inferior to him."

"Did he ever taunt you about your heritage?" she asked the question that everyone in the courtroom was eager to hear.

"Oh yes," Hermione nodded, "Mudblood was his insult of choice with me."

"When did that begin?"

"Right at the start of our second year. In fact, that was the last word he spoke to me."

"And when was this?"

"During the battle at Hogwarts; he called me a Mudblood right before he tried to use the Cruciatus curse on me."

"Did he attempt that only once?"

"Well, he then used it on Harry and Kathryn, followed by an attempt of the Killing Curse?"

"Who was that aimed at?"

"Kathryn Potter." Lucius' hand closed around Kathryn's; she had mentioned this to him, of course, but the mere thought of it still chilled him to the core.

"What effect did that have, if any?" the witch asked curiously. "For obviously it did not have its intended effect." She nodded towards an obviously alive and well Kathryn in the gallery.

"It gave her a nosebleed, nothing serious," Hermione shrugged, "it was ironic because moments before she had mocked his ability to cast such spells; claiming he did not have the necessary malice to make them fully effective."

"A somewhat rash declaration, but obviously one that was right," she mused for a moment. "Now, moving back to Mr. Malfoy's behaviour at school, why do you think he engaged in such displays of belittling behaviour towards you?"

"It wasn't just towards me," Hermione quickly clarified, "but in my case I think he resented me because I challenged the beliefs that he had been brought up with, and I did not treat him with the reverence he felt he deserved."

"And, due to your experiences of Mr. Malfoy's behaviour both in and outside of school, do you think that he was acting of his own free will on the night of the battle at Hogwarts?"

"Yes, I think he was." Hermione answered firmly. "His mannerisms and actions were not ones of a person acting under duress," Hermione shook her head, "he was confident, arrogant even, and he had no one to perform for."

"Thank you, Miss Granger, you may step down." Not flinching under Draco's sour glare, Hermione returned to her seat next to Ron.

"Ten galleons you're next." Kathryn whispered in Lucius' ear with a smirk. After the Wizengamot did not immediately move onto their next witness, Fudge spoke up.

"Does the Wizengamot require any further testimony in this case?"

"The Wizengamot would like to hear from Lucius Malfoy." The wizard with the monocle and the infuriating drawl spoke up.

"Very well." Fudge nodded his head in acceptance and Lucius stood up. He did not spare even a cold glance as he swept past his son; taking his place before the court in a cool, confident manner.

"I'll spare you the formalities as you are already well acquainted with this court." He drawled, managing to get in a clandestine jibe at Lucius' in order to remind him of his current position.

"I would not want you to waste your time." Was Lucius' dry response, eliciting a few titters of furtive laughter from the benches that lined the room.

"Mr. Malfoy," he appeared not to have noticed Lucius' response, "was it always your expectation that your son would become a Death Eater? Was it the life you had planned out for him?"

"Not essentially, no."

"And what do you mean by that?"

"My son was only a year old when the Dark Lord was seemingly defeated," Lucius explained, "I was not alone in thinking that he was never to return and as such I did not expect that my son would have to follow in my footsteps."

"How did you feel when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named returned?"

"I had little choice on that account."

"What did his return mean for your son?"

"I knew that he could now no longer escape the service of the Dark Lord, whether he wanted to or not."

"And so we come to the crux of the matter, did he want to?" his question hung in the air for several long, silent moments as Lucius composed his answer.

"Well, to my eyes he was keen to enter into the Dark Lord's service."

"What made you think that?"

"I know that such an inclination was partially due to the example I set for him when he was a child, but I remember that even in his second year at Hogwarts he wrote to me expressing his delight at the fate that had befallen several of the Muggle born students. He seemed to be particularly happy that Miss Granger had also fallen victim to the attacks." Down in his chair Draco writhed against his bonds, his face a contorted mask of fury, but he did not speak. It was as if, Kathryn thought, that he still believed that his father would support him as he had always done in the past.

"Anything else?"

"Well, after the Dark Lord's return, he sought to test Draco by tasking him with the murder of Albus Dumbledore."

"How did he react to that? Surely it was a daunting prospect for him, a task that he did not relish?"

"On the contrary," Lucius shook his head, "he seemed eager for the challenge, for a chance to prove himself worthy."

"Yet he failed, surely that did not go down well?"

"I think that his failure was expected, and that the Dark Lord merely wished to see how he would attack such a task."

"And was he pleased?"

"Such a thing was hard to gauge," Lucius gave a slight shrug, "but I believe that the determination Draco displayed was highly pleasing to the Dark Lord."

"And so when did he take the Dark Mark?"

"Two weeks before he returned to school for his seventh year." Lucius confirmed what Draco had told the

"Were you present for his initiation, as it were?"

"Of course, as were various members of the Dark Lord's inner circle. Considering his lineage, this was done with a degree of ceremony"

"And at whose insistence did this event take place? Did your son take the Dark Mark willingly or not?"

"If you want to know if I forced him into the decision, I most certainly did not." Lucius replied, forceful in his denial of Draco's earlier claims.

"Did he offer you any say in the matter?"

"He informed me of his decision, but it was clear that any opinion I had on the subject would not be heeded. He had made his choice and that was that."

"Did you have a specific opinion on his decision?"

"I told him that I thought he was too young to be taking such a step."

"But were you not his age when you yourself pledged your service to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?" he countered. "Surely that was somewhat hypocritical?"

"True enough," Lucius nodded in acknowledgement, "and consequently I had the knowledge of what it was truly like to serve the Dark Lord."

"And you did not want such a life for your son?"

"I wanted my family's interests to remain secure and the fact that my son was ready to pledge his life to a Master whose victory was not guaranteed did not seem the wisest of options."

"Yet you did not voice this opinion?" he raised a questioning eyebrow, peering intently at Lucius through his monocle.

"Well, as I am sure you are aware, voicing such thoughts was not worth the punishment that would follow when the Dark Lord found out, and find out he would."

"And so, despite your influence, your son became a Death Eater." He concluded, somewhat unnecessarily. "What was his behaviour like after that?"

"After he took the mark, I could see the greater influence his aunt was having on him."

"That would be Bellatrix Lestrange, yes?"

"Yes, she was very keen that Draco should distinguish himself within the ranks of the Death Eaters and, from what I saw, my son seemed to agree." Lucius explained coolly. "She nurtured his already well developed sense of superiority, and took care to ensure that he was well involved in as many of our activities as possible."

"Did he seem to take on this role with gusto?"

"To my eyes he did," Lucius gave a slight shrug, "my role had changed somewhat, as I have already explained, and Draco was not interested in my political manoeuvrings. His aunt's zeal for all things violent was more of a match for his young man dreams of glory."

"So he viewed your role as uninspiring?"

"Most of the younger generation of Death Eaters did," Lucius clarified, "to young men of twenty, the thought that political manoeuvring can be more effective than direct action does not seem to make sense."

"And am I correct when I say that by the time of the battle of Hogwarts, yours and your son's views were distinctly separate?"

"I believe so. As you well know my thoughts dwelt on a very different subject." He glanced towards Kathryn. "So I think it correct when I say that my son and I desired two completely different outcomes of the Dark Lord's attack upon Hogwarts."

"So you categorically deny that you had any involvement in your son's decision to become a Death Eater?"

"Yes." Lucius nodded firmly. "He is not a child anymore and must be able to account for his own decisions in life."

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy," he shuffled his papers into order, "you may return to your seat."


	89. Chapter 89

A/N - And so my glad tidings for the New Year come with a profuse apology for the rather pitiful attention I have given this story since I returned from Australia. Although I do not want to make excuses, I feel I should at least explain myself. Firstly, I have had the worst bout of writer's block EVER! I have been hesitant about how I wish to continue this story and I will freely admit that things have stalled slightly.

It was only a few days ago that I made a few decisions as to the plot and how I want things to be going so, hopefully, I will be giving you a few more updates in the months to come. The past nine months have also been a bit hectic in terms of working and trying to navigate my way into a career...and endeavour in which I have so far failed spectacularly, but one I must continue. As to other things that get in the way, I spent most of the Autumn falling in love and not really caring about much else, only to end up hurt, which was more than a little disappointing. Although, maybe that has turned out to be useful, as this story was begun as a means of channelling certain feelings into something productive. Unpleasant though it is, it appears that heartache helps me write, so write I shall.

Anyway, that's enough from me, I hope you enjoy the conclusion of Draco's trial. I know it isn't the longest of chapters to be giving you after such a long gap, but at least I can leave you with the promise that the next chapters are going to bring some big events to which you all want to know the answer.

Happy reading! reesybaby x

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Lucius reclaimed his seat with a relieved sigh, his hand immediately reaching for Kathryn's. She gave his hand a little squeeze, showing that she understood the great steps he had taken to get to such a point. Despite everything, Draco was still his son and she knew that he had always worked hard to protect his family from anything that threatened them. The fact that he had ignored all past precedents by withdrawing his support had left many in the courtroom with stunned looks upon their faces. Kathryn supposed that they had expected some sort of slick defence that would, if anything, lessen the charges somewhat. Instead, they had gotten an almost tacit admission that he was prepared to disown his son with the prospect of a far brighter future with her.

"Now," Fudge looked at his fellow Wizengamot members, "am I correct in saying that the last person from whom we wish to hear evidence is Miss Kathryn Potter?" there were nods of agreement from the benches. "Very well. Miss Potter, if you would step forward please."

Getting gracefully to her feet, Kathryn did not even look at Draco as she assumed her almost habitual position on the witness stand.

"Now, Miss Potter," it appeared that Fudge was keen to take the lead here, "you are involved with Draco Malfoy's father, are you not?"

"I should think that you need hardly ask such a question, Minister." There were a few brief whispers of laughter around the room.

"A simple yes or no will suffice." Fudge did his best to appear unruffled.

"Yes."

"And how long have you been involved?"

"Over two years now," she supplied, "but I'm sure that everyone in this room is already familiar with the particulars."

"Oh no, we have no need to review the particulars," Fudge shook his head, "what interests me more is your relationship with his son."

"His son and I have no relationship beyond mutual contempt." Kathryn was quick to make that clear; wanting no one I the room to even consider the notion that she had been involved with Draco as well. She was not going to rise to his bait, no matter how hard he tried.

"And I wish merely to examine the foundations of that contempt." Fudge reassured her in a condescending tone. "Now, I believe there was a particular incident near the end of your eighth year at Hogwarts?"

"Yes."

"Would you be so kind as to explain what happened?"

"He was hacked off because my team at won the Quidditch cup," she shrugged, "so he cursed me. It was a rather childish reaction really."

"And what were the effects of the curse?"

"Oh it left me hanging in the air above the Great Hall for a week slowly dying," she told him matter-of-factly, "which, truth be told, wasn't particularly pleasant."

"How is it that you survived?"

"Well, as it turned out he had not bothered to learn the counter-curse but thankfully his father proved to be slightly more thorough."

"Why do you think he saved your life in that instance?" Fudge asked. "Surely when He Who Must Not Be Named sought to kill you, such an event would have been considered useful?"

"He saved me purely by design." Kathryn admitted rather coldly. "True, Voldemort wanted my brother and I dead, but he wished to do it by his own hand. Any mishap like that could have been would have merited severe punishment."

"I see," he noted something down, "and were there any other occasions where Draco Malfoy deliberately acted to injure you?"

"Well, aside from that it was mostly petty stuff that was meant to put me out of Quidditch games."

"Such as?"

"Well, once he dragged me off my broom and threw me into the stadium the day before a game."

"And what was the result?"

"A broken leg, sprains to my shoulder and arm and a concussion." Kathryn shrugged. "Rather minor injuries in the grand scheme of things."

"Anything else?"

"In our final Quidditch match of this year, he took a beaters bat to me half way through the game." There were plenty of shocked faces around the room, although most would have a good memory of that incident from sitting watching it from the stands.

"Surely the injuries that resulted from that were even more severe?"

"Well, they took a little while to manifest, but the next morning I woke up and couldn't move. Madam Pomfrey diagnosed it as mild spinal fracturing, which was probably a blessing all things considered."

"Certainly." Despite his newly adopted attitude of indifference towards her, Fudge could not help the note of concern in his voice. "And were there any other times when his motive was more sinister?"

"If you want me to verify what Hermione told you about his actions during the battle at Hogwarts, yes, he did attempt to use the Killing Curse against me. But, like Hermione said, all it did was give me a nosebleed."

"Thank you." More notes were scribbled down. "Now, Miss Potter, as to your situation now."

"Yes, what of it?"

"It is now common knowledge that Mr. Malfoy has made you the guardian of his estate and that you are living there so surely you have some vested interest as to whether his son is imprisoned or not?" it would be a lie to say that such a subject had not crossed her mind.

"I have my opinions, as does everyone else I'm sure."

"But surely yourself in particular." Fudge had seen her attempt to avoid the question. "After all, if he is freed by this court, will that not leave you in an uncomfortable position considering the general display of venom towards you this morning?"

"I am certain it would be an uncomfortable situation for both parties."

"Wouldn't his freedom negate the position you now hold with respect to the Malfoy estate?"

"Not as far as I am aware." This confident assertion seemed to stun Draco slightly.

"How so?"

"Well, as far as I am aware, certain amendments have been made to the original instructions." She looked to Lucius, who gave the tiniest nod to confirm that her statement was correct.

"What amendments?"

"Even if his son is released, I still retain overall control of the estate." Many eyebrows were raised at this news, not least Draco's. "

"Was that change made at your specific request?" Fudge asked curiously.

"It certainly was not," she replied coolly, "and I resent any implication that it was."

"But were you aware of the existence of such a potential problem?"

"Yes, I was."

"How so?"

"I thought it prudent to familiarise myself with the particulars of the arrangement."

"And did you raise the issue with Mr. Malfoy?"

"I mentioned it once," she nodded, "but I did not involve myself in any further decision on the subject."

"Does this change surprise you?"

"No," she shook her head, "and I don't think it surprises you either."

"Thank you Miss Potter," Fudge did not acknowledge her last statement, "you may resume your seat." Nodding curtly, Kathryn stepped down and walked confidently back to her seat; this time daring to look Draco in the eye as she passed. He had a strange look about him, half angry and half resigned. Kathryn could only hope that, in some way, he at least regretted what he had done. Judging by the faces she saw as she passed, no one bore stunned looks upon their faces, as if they had not believed what she had said. Of course, the few Slytherin faces that she could discern did not look pleased.

"Nicely measured." Lucius congratulated her as she sat down. "You didn't satisfy Fudge by rising to his bait."

"I will never give him that satisfaction." She whispered back. "And he should know that by now." They did not speak further as Fudge cleared his throat and the room fell quiet.

"The Wizengamot shall now retire to deliberate." He announced as his fellow judges stood and filed through the doors on either side of their benches.

Everyone in the courtroom took the opportunity this offered; getting to their feet and heading to the doors in search of fresh air, a bite to eat and the bathroom. The Aurors that had escorted Lucius in arrived to remove him from the courtroom too and, after a stern and determined look from Kathryn, they did not voice any objection as she walked at his side.

Opening the door to a small room a little way down the hall from the entrance to the courtroom, Kathryn followed Lucius in and then the door was locked behind them.

"Lovely." Kathryn murmured, surveying the small table and rickety chairs with a sceptical eye. "Oh well, it will have to do." With a smirk, the raised her wand and the chairs transformed themselves into something altogether more comfortable. Another wave of her wand lit the torches and a fire sprang up in the empty grate to take the subterranean chill from the room.

"Much better." Lucius nodded, taking a seat on the soft upholstery. "Those seats do make your back ache."

"Oh yes," she sighed, sitting in the chair next to his, "I've spent far more time in those seats than I'd care to admit. Anyway," she started to dig in her small bag, "I'm glad I thought to do this otherwise we'd be going quite hungry." Lucius watched as she placed plates, knives, forks and cups on the table. This was followed by French bread, pâté, cold roast chicken, cheese, roast ham and a thermos of tea.

"Excellent!" Lucius looked shocked, but gratified at the spread she had provided.

"A little trick Hermione taught me." She smiled, pouring them cups of tea whilst Lucius tore up the baguette. "And I was assuming you'd want some decent food."

"Though the location leaves something wanting." He sighed, taking a long drink of tea.

"Alas Fred and George don't make a portable picnic field," she laughed, "although maybe it's something I should mention!"

"Well, it's the company that matters in this instance." He reminded her, slicing off a chunk of stilton.

"Indeed it is." She nodded, helping herself to ham. "I wonder how long they'll take?"

"Who knows?"

"Well, on Monday it was Rabastan Lestrange's trial, and on Tuesday it was Rowle's," she recounted how she had spent the past few days, "they were both concluded by lunchtime. They made little, if no attempts at a defence, but there was no one to speak for them as you have had."

"How long did they deliberate?"

"About an hour, maybe even less." She estimated. "There really wasn't much to debate. They were already well known servants of Voldemort and did not attempt to deny the crimes they committed. Though we know he bore the Dark Mark willingly, we cannot deny that his role appears distinctly ambiguous, at least, up until the final battle."

"He was seen on more than one occasion using Unforgiveable Curses," Lucius shrugged, "ambiguity aside, the law is crystal clear on that account."

"Take care of whom you remind of that fact," she cautioned him, "Harry and I might've let a couple slip during the battle."

"You had to fight like with like," he shook his head, "besides, you won the day and no one should even dare to question if the methods used were justified."

"And what if they decide to show clemency?" she asked, concern lingering in her eyes. "Are we to accept whatever judgement is levelled, or are we to challenge it?"

"We shall meet that if it comes."

"Not that I'm saying he will, but he couldn't possibly come back to live at the Manor."

"I have other places that he may make his home, if they see fit to release him." He reassured her.

"Do you think he would accept such a bargain?"

"I could make it an attractive proposition, seeing as I have removed his rights to any fortune."

"We shall see." She sighed as there was a knock at the door to signal that it was time to return. Waving her wand, the remnants of their meal disappeared and the room returned to normal. It was Scrimgeour who opened the door to let them out, escorting them down the corridor in silence and back into the empty courtroom. Minutes after they had resumed their seats, the rest of those who had come to observe began to wander back in.

All eyes were on the Wizengamot as they filed in, their faces giving nothing away. After a couple of agonising minutes of silence, Fudge cleared his throat and all eyes turned in his direction.

"Draco Malfoy, the Wizengamot had deliberated and reached a verdict." He announced to the silent room. "On the charge of being a Death Eater and wilfully participating in the commission of acts of violence against both Muggles and Wizards, the Wizengamot finds you guilty." There was no grand reaction from the room, save from a few snorts and groans from the Slytherin attendees. Elsewhere there were nods of agreement from members of the Order and the DA that were dotted about the room. Draco simply stared at the floor, no emotion registering on his face.

"As for sentencing," Fudge continued, "though you are young, it is the opinion of the court that you did fully understand the severity of your crimes and, as such, you must also face the full consequences. However, that does not mean that the court does not consider rehabilitation out of the realm of possibility."

"What?" Kathryn whispered to Lucius, her eyebrows raised in surprise.

"The law mandates that a life sentence must be served for your use of Unforgiveable Curses, but it is the decision of this court that you must serve a minimum of fifteen years of this sentence before it can be reviewed." With that final pronouncement, the Wizengamot stood and left the room once more.

His former housemates could only stand and watch as their de-facto leader, their veritable Slytherin prince, was removed from the courtroom. Looking at the man next to her, Kathryn found his face hard to read, not that he was an emotional open book the rest of the time. Privately she wondered if he did, in some way, regret seeing his only son is such a position. Though he had sometimes appeared to behave coldly towards him, Kathryn was under no illusion as to how highly Lucius valued his family. Of course, she knew that he could also be musing on the uncertainty of his own fate and whether he would be joining his son behind Azkaban's cold walls.

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A/N - The BIG question - should Lucius go to Azkaban or should he be freed? What do you think? Let me know!


	90. Chapter 90

A/N - Wow, that was actually faster than I'd thought! And so here is chapter 90, not originally the chapter I was going to upload next, but this one just sprang into my head so I decided to go with it! I don't want to spoil anything so all I will say is that, in this chapter, a hatchet is buried...

On another note, thank you to everyone who read and left me a review for my last chapter, it was really nice to hear from you and I'm pleased my return was appreciated! I'll make no promises, but considering that I've got about 2/3 of Chapter 91 already written it probably won't be too long before you'll have more to read.

As always please read, enjoy and leave me a review to keep me going!

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"Well," Kathryn sighed, "that answers that question."

"It certainly does." Lucius replied, his eyes darting to the Aurors that were already approaching to remove him to Azkaban once more.

"Do you want me to apply pressure?" she asked hurriedly, also noting that their time together was now limited.

"What for?"

"To come to a decision." She nodded towards the vacant Wizengamot benches. "To end this infuriating wait."

"I don't know whether I could answer that question." He told her truthfully. "But I shall not stop you if you choose to."

"I'll see." Her face fell as the Aurors reached them. "Maybe I'll have a quiet word with Fudge."

"If that's what you want," he kissed her tenderly on the cheek, "I'll see you soon."

"You can count on that." Kissing him back fiercely before he could stand up. "I promise." With a sombre nod, he stood and was led away by Scrimgeour and two other Aurors.

Striding through the corridors, she stayed in the elevator until it reached the Minister's floor.

"Afternoon Percy." She said politely as she entered the office, perching on the empty desk opposite his. "Is the Minister back yet?"

"Not yet," he shook his head, "but I don't imagine he'll be long."

"I can wait." She smiled. Her attitude to Percy had begun to soften somewhat for, though she had not seen him, he had come to Hogwarts to fight alongside his family as soon as he's heard that there was something going on. Despite the fact that he continued to work for Fudge, there had been some signs of a rapprochement between Percy and the rest of his family and she was happy to encourage this. "So, have you been to the Burrow recently?" she asked curiously.

"Not to the burrow," he shook his head, "but I did visit Grimmauld Place for lunch on Sunday."

"Oh lovely."

"It is quite an odd house." He commented tentatively.

"Oh you get used to the elves heads on the walls," she sighed, "and Mrs Black's raving."

"Still, it was nice to see everyone."

"I'm sure it was; I'm sorry I wasn't there." Any further conversation was cut short as Fudge arrived in the elevators.

"Miss Potter." He raised his eyebrows when he saw her. "And what might I do for you?"

"I have a favour to ask." She replied, following him through to his office.

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Fudge sighed, taking a seat behind his desk.

"What can I say," she shrugged with a smirk, "it's become part of my charm."

"Let me guess," he paused as Percy came through with a tea tray, "this will have something to do with the weekend?"

"Maybe," she smirked again, helping herself to a cup of tea, "I'd considered floating the idea."

"And why do you think I should even consider such a thing?"

"Well, have I betrayed your trust on previous engagement?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"At least, not as far as I am aware." Fudge conceded, sipping his tea.

"Well, I should think that you would be so good as to give me the benefit of the doubt."

"Doubt seems to be a word used all too often where you are concerned."

"As far as I am concerned, there would be far less doubt surrounding me if you would arrive at a verdict."

"I cannot force the Wizengamot to reach a decision any earlier." He shook his head. "And I would've thought you wouldn't be keen for a swift judgement?"

"Waiting is never a pleasant experience, especially when so much hangs in the balance."

"And so you wish for me to release him to you for the weekend once more, just in case the Wizengamot sees fit to remove him from society for a longer period?"

"Yes." Kathryn replied honestly. "But you also have heard what I have said, what Dumbledore and Professor Snape said and surely you must have your own conclusions from that."

"That does not change the fact that he was a Death Eater and he must be held to account that."

"Oh yes," she drawled, "because you have such experience of dealing with Voldemort's followers."

"I beg your pardon?" Fudge spluttered, setting his teacup down.

"Need I remind you that this war was won, not by your Ministry, but by the students and teachers of Hogwarts and those who were brave enough to join them?"

"You need not remind me." Fudge replied through gritted teeth.

"Besides," she sighed, "I have vital matters to discuss with him pertaining to the estate and its future and I would rather not have to do that in one of Azkaban's draughty rooms."

"Friday to Sunday." Fudge conceded in a growling tone.

"Thank you," she nodded curtly, "and of course, you may be assured of my complete discretion." With a final, satisfied, smile she stood the breezed out of the doors. Percy smiled to himself as he watched her go for, though he still valued his job, it was sometimes quite gratifying to see someone wield such a power over Fudge.

Striding through the Atrium, a spring in her step, she decided that it was time to mend a few fences and therefore directed her driver to take her to Grimmauld Place. Deciding on the way that she needed a simpler outfit, she slipped off her skirt and pulled on a pair of jeans that she had started keeping in the back of the car in case she needed a change. Leaving the blouse on, she tucked it into the waistband and pulled on a pair of simple black flats; also kept in the car for emergencies. Leaving everything in the car, save her bag, she instructed the driver to leave as she would be perfectly capable of getting home. As the car rolled away, she looked up at the black door of number twelve; suddenly so imposing when it had been such a haven for so many years. Taking a deep breath, she strode up the stairs and let herself in.

She found most of them in the kitchen as usual, the smell of Mrs Weasley's cooking wafting deliciously through the air. There was almost a collective gasp as people spotted her standing nervously in the doorway.

"Kathryn dear!" Mrs Weasley's face lit up with pleasure as she rushed over to welcome her with a hug. "Whatever are you doing here?"

"Well, I thought I was probably overdue a visit." She shrugged, not really sure whether she wanted to voice the real reason. Though Harry of course knew that she had been in the house not too long ago, he did not betray her secret.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" she asked quickly. "Or some dinner? A snack? I've got some scones I made this morning?"

"Oh, no, I'm fine." She smiled politely, being more than full from the lunch she had shared with Lucius. "I actually came to talk to Sirius." She looked hopefully at her Godfather, who had done his best to be indifferent to her presence. "That is, if you're not busy."

"I'm not busy." He said coolly, setting down his copy of the Prophet.

"I thought we could maybe go for a walk?" she suggested tentatively. "It's a lovely afternoon."

"If you like." He stood and took his jacket off a peg on the wall.

"Do you want any of us to come?" Harry piped up just before they left; hesitant about letting them speak alone, considering the outcome of their previous conversation.

"No," Kathryn shook her head, trying to give her brother a reassuring smile, "we'll be fine."

She and Sirius walked down the street in a somewhat awkward silence, turning the corners until the gates into Regent's Park came into sight.

"It's nice to be out in the fresh air after spending half the day in those cold courtrooms." She said, in an attempt to start up a conversation.

"I'd imagine so." He replied, his voice betraying little emotion. "Harry tells me that Draco Malfoy shall not be setting foot outside Azkaban for at least fifteen years."

"Yes," she sighed as they turned to walk down one of the park's tree-lined paths, "I won't lie and say that I wasn't relieved."

"I was sure you would be," only now did a touch of ire slip into his tone, "for it certainly secures your position."

"You needn't express your feelings on the subject," she cut him off before he could go any further, "you have made them quite clear already."

"Then why did you want to talk to me?" he asked as they walked through the dappled sunshine.

"Because, surprisingly enough, I don't want to be at war with you like this." She replied calmly, looking him dead in the eye. "After Harry you are the nearest thing I have to family and I am not going to throw that away simply because of a difference of opinion."

"You forget that the Black family is good at forgetting those who disappoint them."

"Well, I'm not on a tapestry for you to blast off." She shot back tersely. "And you are far better than that."

"You really think so?" he raised his eyebrows sceptically. "I'd have thought your opinion of me would be slightly altered."

"I'm not saying it hasn't," she was quick to indicate that she hadn't forgotten their last conversation, "but do I think you are too quick to judge."

"Oh really?"

"Yes." She kept her tone calm and light, not wanting to descend into another argument. "You conveniently forget how quickly you were judged," she reminded him, "yet you were the last person that deserved twelve years in Azkaban."

"A fair observation," he nodded, not wanting to argue either, "but he was still a Death Eater whichever way you look at it."

"So was Snape, yet you seem to get along alright now."

"He has proved himself time and time again," he clarified, "he has earned our trust."

"Is saving my life, no, both of our lives not enough?"

"It's a start," he conceded, "but if you think I can forgive him so easily for what he did to you, you've got another thing coming."

"I'm not asking you to forgive him, Sirius." She shook her head. "I mean, for God's sake, I've only just managed to think about forgiving him."

"I don't know how you can."

"I have to," she sighed, "otherwise I will never be able to move on, and I have to be able to do that."

"I just cannot understand why you want to be with him after everything that happened?"

"How can I explain that to you when you refuse point blank to accept that he could have changed?" she asked honestly, pausing and looking out over the green space that was filled with people enjoying their afternoon.

"A fair enough point." He finally replied, not liking to see such a pained expression on her face.

"And that's what's happened," she looked at him with imploring eyes, "and I can't explain why. I wish I could, but all I know is that something shifted. You heard me try to explain it to a whole room full of people and I still didn't manage to make much sense of it."

"It made sense." Sirius admitted after another long pause. "It's just that the concept is a little hard to get you head around."

"A fair point as well." She sighed, taking a seat on the nearest park bench. "And I do appreciate that it's been a lot to deal with, especially with everything else, and I'm really very sorry that I've had to put you through it."

"Don't apologise," Sirius shook his head, "we've had to deal with worse after all."

"Well, I'll still feel sorry if it's all the same to you." She told him balefully, though managing a weak smile. "I can't pretend that this is a situation that I had envisaged myself in," she told him truthfully, "or that I thought I could ever be happy in such a position, but life is strange like that."

"So are you happy?"

"I think I am." She nodded, almost afraid to look at him for fear of the scorn she might see in his face.

"You think?"

"Well, Voldemort may be vanquished but my worries and cares have been replaced by an entirely different set."

"But you still think you're happy?"

"I know you find it difficult to believe, but he really does make me happy." When the biting remark she had expected did not come, she continued. "I never thought I'd be able to feel that way about anything, ever, not after that." Sirius knew that she was referring to the now infamous way their relationship had begun.

"But you do."

"And that's the baffling thing," she laughed, "for who would ever have guessed it?"

"Do you see a future?" Sirius asked probingly after a moment's pause.

"I daren't," she almost whispered, "not when it could so easily be taken away."

"Does he?"

"He hasn't said anything specific," she shook her head, "and my allusions to it in court were just a shock tactic. Although, I suppose he has spoken about my future."

"What about it?"

"He is very determined I have one for a start," she explained, "and he is certain that I will make it something significant."

"So he means what he says?" Sirius quirked a doubtful eyebrow. "

"What do you mean by that?"

"Harry's told me some of the things he's said, when you've had him over for dinner."

"Oh."

"Nothing drastic." He reassured her. "To be honest, they were things that most people would love to hear being said about someone they cared for."

"But you just wish that it wasn't Lucius Malfoy who was doing the talking."

"I suppose so, yes." Sirius nodded.

"Well, I think that there are many who would share your view." Even with such a gloomy topic she still managed a smile.

"It's not that I wish you unhappiness," Sirius was quick to clarify his position, "far from it."

"I know," she stood and started to walk again, "believe me, the ones who want me unhappy are quite easy to spot!"

They walked in silence again for a little while, going in no particular direction as they navigated the criss-crossing paths that took them down tree lined avenues and past immaculately kept flowerbeds.

"Would you think me a hypocrite if I said that maybe I have been too quick to draw my conclusions?" Sirius asked hesitantly.

"Hardly," she shook her head, "and I cannot really blame you for doing so. After all, I haven't been as forthcoming as I should have been about, well, everything."

"So we can both agree that we are at mutual fault."

"I'd say so!" she chuckled. "But where to go from there?"

"Where do you want to go?"

"From here? Well, I would rather like to be back on speaking terms with you for a start."

"Just speaking terms?"

"It's a start." She shrugged. "I don't want you to think that I'm trying to make you change your mind or anything."

"Anything else?"

"If you can manage it, I'd like you to give him some benefit of the doubt."

"I can try," he grimaced slightly, "but I can't promise anything."

"I'd say that trying would be an improvement on past attempts." Though Sirius was greatly tempted to reply with some cutting remark, he held his tongue. "And maybe even give me that benefit too," she added quietly, "so maybe you can learn to see past the house. I know it's more than I deserve, but I'll ask it anyway. Anything you want in return?"

"All I want is for you to let me back in." Sirius confessed. "To let me be your Godfather like you parents wanted me to."

"Even though I make choices that you cannot bring yourself to support?"

"It was stupid of me to think that I could make you change your mind," he admitted, "you're too much like your father for that."

"So I've been told." She laughed slightly. "So, do we have a truce?" she asked, a hopeful look evident on her face.

"We were never at war." He shook his head at such a suggestion.

"It felt like it." She sighed as they neared the gates that would lead them back towards Grimmauld Place.

"Well then," Sirius held out his hand for her to shake, "a truce it is then." Smiling, Kathryn took his hand before they both continued on towards the house.

"So, on that note," Sirius said as they reached Grimmauld Place, "would you want to stay for dinner? I'm sure Molly would be ecstatic."

"Then how could I refuse?" she replied with a smile.

"I know it's not the grand setting you've been used to," he added sneakily, heading up the steps to the door, "but we do our best."

"Very funny," she drawled, following him up, "don't push your luck."

"Now when have I ever done that?" he asked dryly, opening the door. Kathryn could only shake her head in amusement as he disappeared into the hallway and down towards the kitchen to relay the good news. Standing a moment on the threshold, she found it nice not to feel like a trespasser, as she had done the previous Saturday night. Smiling to herself, she stepped inside and shut the door.

* * *

A/N - Hope you enjoyed it! Please note that this is not some soppy 'everything is forgiven' moment between Sirius and Kathryn. He still has serious misgivings about the whole thing but I felt that some kind of rapprochement was needed after the disagreement they had...I hope you're happy to see them on friendlier terms too!


	91. Chapter 91

A/N - A brief interlude that just sprang up...so now what was intended to be Chapter 91 becomes Chapter 92! Well, at least I'm getting on with things at a good pace!

Happy reading!

* * *

As Friday afternoon arrived, she could not fail to be in good spirits. September was being obliging and had provided a lovely sunny day in which she had done little, save from lounging in the garden with a good book. By four in the afternoon, however, she was to be found pacing impatiently back and forth in the Entrance Hall. She had received a note from Fudge the previous day that she was to expect Lucius' arrival by portkey between four and five o'clock.

Eventually, at quarter to five, there was a blue flash and a figure appeared in the Entrance Hall. Springing up from where she had been sitting on the stairs, leaning against the banister, she practically flew across the room to meet him.

"Finally!" she breathed a sigh of relief, flinging her arms around his neck before he knew what was going on. "I should've known Fudge would keep me waiting."

"I had no idea what was going on." He explained. "They just gave this to me and told me to wait." He held up an old, worn leather glove.

"At least you're here," she smiled up at him, "I was beginning to wonder if he had decided to renege on our agreement."

"Well, it's certainly a pleasant surprise." He assured her, planting a swift kiss upon her lips. "Far better than how I could've been spending my weekend."

"And it shall begin with the new ritual," she wrinkled her nose slightly, "you can get straight in the bath," she pulled slightly at his jacket with the tips of her fingers, "and I might just burn these." Though he could have taken a fresh set of clothes with him on previous occasions that he had been allowed home, he had chosen to wear the same set each time he returned to Azkaban so as not to wear anything out unnecessarily.

"Feel free." He chuckled, taking her hand as she led him up the stairs.

"Good," she swept her hand across her forehead in a mock gesture of relief, "I mean, I know the house elves have done their best with them, but they just look a little too forlorn now."

"I won't lie and say that there are ample laundry facilities in that hellish place. But they've lasted well since July."

"Indeed. And we might as well have you looking your best for Monday."

"So you don't want to be seen with me looking slightly shabby?" he teased as they walked through the doors to their bedroom.

"No, it's just that I'd hate for you to feel self-conscious when standing next to me." She smirked, teasing him right back. "After all, I'm getting a reputation for being quite the snappy dresser."

"Oh are you now?" he raised his eyebrows, surveying her current attire. "Obviously these people need to see you in ordinary situations to get the full picture."

"The cheek!" she laughed, waving her wand to run the water for the bath. "It is a taxing business getting dolled up like that all the time, so I reserve the right to wear my jeans when there is no reason to be smartly dressed."

"So do I no longer fall into that category?"

"No," she smirked wickedly, "but I find it simpler to take my clothes off when I want to get your attention!"

"Speaking of which." He smirked back, hooking a finger in the waistband of her jeans and pulled her closer.

"Oh no," she shook her head, ducking swiftly out of his grasp, "you get in and I'll go and fetch some tea." She pointed sternly to the steaming bath.

"Spoilsport." She heard him grumble as she sauntered out of the bathroom and down to the kitchens.

"So do we have guest coming early?" he asked as she reappeared with two mugs of tea.

"No."

"Then why the hurry?" he asked as he sipped the tea.

"I want to go to Oxford." She explained, taking a seat at the edge of the bath.

"Why?"

"There's a food festival on and they're having an evening market and I fancied going along." She explained. "It's been a nice day after all and I thought it would make a change."

"It certainly sounds promising."

"So you don't mind going?"

"Not at all."

"Excellent!" edging closer to the bath, she dangled her legs in the water as he ducked beneath the surface to rinse the last of the suds from his hair. "And I've never been to Oxford before," she continued when he emerged, "but I've heard it's a beautiful city."

"It is." He confirmed, reaching for a towel. Standing, he offered her his hand to help her up once he had wrapped the towel around his waist. "Marvellous libraries that I'm sure your Hermione would approve of."

"Yes," she nodded, knowing that Hermione's love of books and knowledge was somewhat unparalleled, "though there is one thing." She finished as they walked into the wardrobe.

"What?"

"Well," she shifted uncomfortably on the spot, "are you sure you can dress casually enough to blend in?"

"I blended in at the Albert Hall, did I not?" he quirked an eyebrow.

"Well, yes, but this isn't the Albert Hall."

"Fear not," he opened a door, "though no one may think it, I do have things to wear other than suits."

Fifteen minutes later they were both ready; Lucius looking remarkably relaxed in a pair of chinos and a soft cotton shirt whilst Kathryn wore dark crimson skinny jeans and a cream top with a large print of a single feather going down the left side. Kathryn had to admit that he looked rather good, quite enjoying the sight of him out of his more formal attire that had become something of his trademark.

"So?" he asked as she eyed him up and down. "Do I pass muster."

"Very much so." She smiled, taking the arm that he offered. "Although, I've got this for the car." She handed him the invisibility cloak as they walked downstairs. "I've assured Fudge of my discretion so it wouldn't do to have anyone seeing you if the press is lurking at the gates."

"Do they do that often?" he asked curiously, running the light, airy fabric of the cloak through his hands.

"Not all the time," she shrugged, "but every so often there'll be someone there."

"At least I don't live in suburbia." He nodded towards the gates in the distance.

"Yes," she nodded in agreement, "thank heaven for small mercies. I don't think I could cope if they were able to press their noses against the downstairs windows."

Thankfully, there was no one lying in wait; apparently even journalists needing their Friday night off. Kathryn stowed the cloak in the side door pocket, just in case they needed it on their return.

Despite their driver taking the longer route to Oxford, via the back roads in order to avoid the rush hour traffic and a set of extensive road works, they still arrived in record time. Stepping into the street, Kathryn felt quite proud of how well Lucius was blending in, unlike some wizards who did not grasp the concept of Muggle attire. Not that she would've let him out of the house in anything less. Heading in the general direction of the centre of town, they strolled hand in hand past stalls offering everything from local meats to locally made ales. Most were offering free samples, and Kathryn began making mental notes as to whose produce she would like the house elves to source for their kitchen.

Sitting on an obliging bench, they ate their dinner from take-away boxes; Kathryn having a delicious Pad Thai whilst Lucius tried a mouth-watering, if spicy, lamb curry. Kathryn couldn't help smiling as they ambled about, imagining that this was what a date would have been like if they had begun their relationship in a more conventional way. Still, it was nice to see him look so relaxed despite the looming threat of imprisonment that was still hanging over his head.

It was after ten by the time they found their way back to the car, after having sat in one of the pubs sampling most of their local ales.

"You look like you've had fun." She commented as they pulled away, wrapping her scarf about her shoulders to stave off the chill in the air.

"I have," he smiled, "though I think my tongue is still burning from the curry."

"I did warn you." She chuckled, shaking her head. "You did look like you'd taken Madam Pomfrey's Pepperup potion for a little while, without the steaming ears of course."

"I'm glad I was a source of amusement," he replied dryly, "though I think there's still more fun to be had."

"Oh really?"

"Definitely." His kiss tasted of hops and barley, and she slid happily into his embrace. Sensing their urgency, their driver had them back at the Manor gates in under an hour. Laughing like giddy teenagers out later than they should be, he pulled her through the front doors and resumed what he had started in the car.

"Another perk of not living in suburbia," she laughed as he tripped on the large carpet that covered most of the Entrance Hall's floor, "is that we don't have to worry about what the neighbours are hearing!"

"Indeed," he murmured, pulling her down to where he was now sitting on the floor, "now come here." His lips found hers in the dark whilst his hands slid beneath her T-shirt; running across her silky smooth skin as he pulled her ever closer.

"Not here!" she protested meekly as his hands switched their focus to the buttons of her jeans.

"Why not?" he asked rakishly, sliding a hand further into her underwear.

"Because," she bit her lip, trying to ignore what he was doing, "because I don't want to blush every time I'm in here."

"Well at least I can still make you blush." He commented dryly. "But what my Lady wants," he swept her up off the floor and into his arms, "my lady gets."

"Plus I'd rather that the generations of Malfoys gone by weren't watching." She whispered in his ear as he carried her up the stairs.

"True," he whispered back, "and those portraits can be such gossips."

Practically falling through the bedroom door, she took her turn and swiftly had him pinioned on the bed as she removed his shirt and trousers.

"Oh so now the veil of modesty falls." He commented dryly as she pulled her top over her head.

"Like I said," she murmured back, "I don't like an audience."

"Well, like I said," he slid a hand up behind her head, "come here." Pulling her down to kiss him, she laughed as he rolled over and almost slipped off the edge of the bed.

"Very smooth." She giggled as his hands fiddled with the clasp of her underwear.

"I'm glad you think so."

Any further conversation was swiftly negated as he removed the last of her underwear; holding her body to his as if any miniscule separation would be catastrophic. Though still possessed of the giddy, teenage-like rush of adrenaline that coursed through their veins, their lovemaking was anything but a halting teenage fumble. Their movements were practiced and polished, but not in such a way that it dulled the experience. Entwined together beneath the covers, all thought of the future was forgotten for just a moment, and that moment was bliss.


	92. Chapter 92

A/N - And so here we have Chapter 92...and it's even longer than I'd imagined it would be, so I hope it makes up for the somewhat brevity of the chapters I have previously uploaded. Here we see in interesting meeting, but that's all I'll say, I'd hate to spoil things!

Thank you to all of you who have left me such nice reviews...and yay I've finally broken the 200 mark...it's taken long enough (just over 4 years)!

So happy reading, I hope you enjoy it and, if you do, feel free to leave me a review!

* * *

The next morning, so exhausted after the previous night's activities, they did not even open their eyes until the faint sound of a voice reached their ears.

"Kathryn!" it called from an unknown location. "Kathryn!" reaching for her glasses, Kathryn untangled herself from Lucius' arms and sat up; casting a bleary-eyed look around the room.

"Kathryn!" the voice shouted again. Blinking in the light of the morning, Kathryn's eyes finally landed upon her brother's head in the fireplace.

"Harry!" she yelped, clutching the sheets across her chest and hoping that he hadn't seen more than he should have. "Hang on!" sliding off the mattress, she reached for the dressing gown that the house elves must have laid out in the early hours. Checking that there was something blocking Harry's line of sight from the fireplace, Kathryn dropped the sheet that had been concealing her modesty and wrapped the dark green dressing gown around her shoulders.

"What is it?" she asked, somewhat breathlessly as she knelt down by the fireplace. "Nothing's wrong is it?"

"No," Harry shook his head, "but there's something you ought to know."

"What?"

"We've just had an owl from Fudge," he explained, "asking us to a meeting with the Muggle Prime Minister."

"When?"

"He's sending a car for us in an hour."

"An hour!" she cried, jolting Lucius awake.

"Yeah," Harry nodded fervently, "apparently it's quite short notice."

"You don't need to tell me that." She muttered darkly. "So who is going?"

"Just me, Ron and Hermione. Apparently he thought it would be a bit much to take in if the whole Order turned up."

"Yes," Kathryn managed a chuckle, "lord knows what his staff would think!"

"So," Harry paused somewhat awkwardly, "I'm assuming you haven't had an owl?"

"No," Kathryn shook her head, "not that I think I should be surprised."

"What do you want to do?"

"Well, I hardly think I shouldn't be present," she smirked, "but don't say anything to Fudge."

"Of course not." Harry smirked back. "I'll see you in a bit."

"Thanks for telling me." She gave Harry a final wave before his head disappeared.

Before Lucius could even question what was going on, she walked straight through to the bathroom and he heard the sound of water hitting tiles as she turned the shower on. After barely fifteen minutes she was finished and positively stormed back into the room.

"Fudge has scheduled a meeting with the Muggle Prime Minister and has invited Harry, Ron and Hermione but not me." She said, by way of a brief explanation before heading into the wardrobe to get dressed. Lucius had to do his best to stifle a chuckle, not having seen her so righteously annoyed for a while.

Opening and closing doors with probably more force than was necessary, she hurriedly pulled on underwear before turning her attention to the rails of clothes. Privately wondering how on earth she had managed to amass such a collection, she picked something out on a whim and then turned her attention to jewellery.

"So, the Prime Minister wants to meet the heroes of the Wizarding World does he?" Kathryn muttered darkly, yet audibly as she considered her reflection in the mirror.

"I really don't see why this is bothering you so much." Lucius called from where he lay sprawled on the bed, still in a significant state of undress.

"You would expect the Minister to include you if you had made grand contributions to worthy causes, wouldn't you?" she shot back quickly, poking her head around the doors of their wardrobe and raising her eyebrows.

"Well, yes." He shrugged.

"Well there you go!" she called back, her face disappearing behind the door. "Our victory was as much down to me as it was to anyone else who fought, it just so happens that Harry and I had a pivotal part to play."

"It's only the Muggle Prime Minister," Lucius drawled in reply, putting heavy stress on Muggle, "why do you even care if he meets you or not?" as soon as he finished speaking, he realised what a stupid question it was.

"You know exactly why." She replied, emerging from the wardrobe. "And don't pretend not to. He was only elected last year and could potentially be around for a while. I have no idea what I could be doing in a few years, so it makes sense to meet him."

"True," he sighed, "after all, you could easily become the youngest Minister in history!" he smirked back at her, catching her wrist as she passed and pulling her down next to him.

"Don't say things like that!" she protested, trying to squirm out of his grasp. "I don't want anything like that kind of power."

"In a few years it could be yours for the asking." He whispered seductively.

"Someone else can have it."

"But you would do it so well," he continued, pressing his lips to her neck, "and you would certainly be known as the most beautiful Minister in history."

"Do not tease me." She chided him, a blush rising on her smooth cheeks.

"I never joke about such things." He replied; his voice all seriousness.

"Well, much as I'd like to stay here and listen to you flattery," she finally managed to stand up, "I have a meeting to, erm, attend!" she finished with a smirk.

"Am I allowed to come?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. "It is really very amusing watching you embarrass Fudge."

"Well, leaving you behind would probably violate the terms on which they let me have you," her eyebrows knitted together in mock seriousness, "so I suppose you'll have to come!" she finished with a smile.

Dressed and ready within ten minutes, he stood solemnly before the front doors as the car was brought around and held out his cane to her.

"Take it," he instructed, "it suits you."

"But it suits you too." She protested.

"Fudge won't like seeing me with a wand," he shrugged, "Besides, it adds a certain gravitas."

"If you insist." She agreed quietly, taking the potent Malfoy symbol that she had become so used to carrying of late.

"And I have never seen anything sexier in all my life." He added with a smirk as they walked down the steps. To this, she did not reply, simply sinking down into the car with the most alluring half-smile upon her face. Needless to say, he followed eagerly.

From what Harry had told her earlier, she assumed that Fudge would be arriving by Floo whilst the rest were to arrive by Ministry car. Kathryn could see the sense, especially as the meeting was scheduled during normal office hours and having people being seen arriving for a meeting with the Prime Minister would explain his being occupied. This, in turn, meant that the security around Downing Street would be expecting a car, or potentially cars, to be arriving. All in all, this would make their arrival far easier.

"So," Lucius said as they drove towards London, "what do we know about this Prime Minister?"

"Well, not a massive amount," she confessed, "I would've liked the chance to research him a little more, but there was no time. From what I have gleaned from the Muggle newspapers, he is fairly liberal and has been channelling much needed money back into public services."

"Is he well received by the public?"

"I believe so." She shrugged. "He seems to be far more popular than the previous fellow by a long way."

"And obviously you think he would be an asset as an acquaintance."

"I think making his acquaintance would be a prudent move."

"Most certainly."

"Though I think your allusions to my potential future role are a little too imaginative considering the way things are at the moment."

"People far less deserving than you have come to power with great ease," he reminded her, "so I would not push such an idea aside so quickly."

"We shall see." She smiled enigmatically.

London was as busy as ever for a Saturday, but their car did not look out of place amongst the many blacked out windows of the cars that gathered around the doors of Harrods or the diplomatic vehicles that navigated the streets of Whitehall. Arriving at the gates to Downing Street, just off Whitehall, it only took a quick confundus charm for the security at the gate to allow them through. Pulling to a halt before the door of number ten, the driver paused a moment while she and Lucius straightened their clothes before stepping out to open the doors.

To the photographers and reporters that perennially occupied the area opposite the famous black door, it all looked very smart. The first they saw of the car's occupants was the silver tip of a cane, followed by a pair of smart, round toed court shoes on the end of long, slender legs. After getting over the shock of the beauty with which they were faced, they also noted the aristocratic blond gentleman who had, by now, emerged from the other door. They noticed that she did not even flinch at the sight of the press, a trait only common in those who were used to such attention, and simply strode confidently around the car and up to the door. It opened without prompt and the two mysterious visitors were quickly gone from sight.

"I am certain that only three guests were expected for this meeting!" they were told, in a slightly panicked tone, by the aide who had met them.

"You were misinformed." Kathryn replied coolly.

"It is highly irregular." She went on, some than somewhat intimidated by this disastrously beautiful, confident and, apparently, powerful young woman. More unsettling still was the fact that she appeared to be scarily young, far less than the twenty six years of that particular aide, but in possession of a maturity well beyond her years.

"If you'll just wait here," she motioned to a sofa, "I'll announce you."

"That won't be necessary." The mysterious young woman dismissed the suggestion with a wave of her hand and continued onwards through the outer offices turning more than one head as she went. Seeing the door she was making for, she crossed the room in a few languid strides and turned the handle without even bothering to knock. Her companion, who had said not a word since entering, simply smiled and followed her through.

Inside the grand office, filled with bookshelves and adorned with picturesque landscapes and portraits of leaders gone by, the meeting had only been going on for fifteen minutes. Most of that time had been spent on introductions and a brief recap of how events had stood prior to the Battle of Hogwarts, as the events of that night were becoming known.

All in the room turned in surprise as the door opened without warning and though the Prime Minister opened his mouth, presumably to protest at the rude interruption, no words managed to escape. Instead he simply stared, dumbfounded, at the people who has just entered.

First through the door was a woman who, although by the looks of it startlingly young, had a commanding presence about her that the Prime Minister had only seen in the best of the world's statesmen. Her outfit was eye-catching to say the least. A bright, pillar-box red, the dress clung to every subtle, smooth curve before fanning out into a short, flared skirt that stopped several inches before her knees. It was nothing short of stunning. A grey fur stole was wrapped loosely about her bare arms and a serpent topped cane was held quite casually in her right hand.

Following her was a gentleman with a surprising crop of long blond hair and a look of distinct amusement on his face. He was dressed almost entirely in black; in a suit so impeccably tailored it made the Prime Minister, in his costly Saville Row suit, feel positively shabby. In similar fashion to the lady who had preceded him, he had a look about him that could only convey a sense of importance and status.

Unable to understand who on earth these people were, the Prime Minister looked to Fudge only to find him looking equally as stunned. Studying them again, he caught sight this time of the strangely shaped scar that he had already seen once that day.

"Sorry I'm late." She said with an apologetic smile, setting the tip of the cane on the floor where it made a dull thump.

"I was not aware we were expecting anyone else." The Prime Minister addressed Fudge, the look of confusion plain to see upon his face.

"You weren't." Kathryn cut in before Fudge could reply.

"Then would you be so kind as to introduce yourself?"

"Kathryn Potter." she extended her hand, which the Prime Minister shook politely. "And as you have already discerned, I am Harry's twin."

"You didn't tell me there were two, Minister." Fudge looked distinctly embarrassed.

"I assure you," Fudge shot a black look towards Malfoy, "I had my reasons."

"And who, might I ask, is your companion?" the Prime Minister turned his attention to Lucius.

"Lucius Malfoy." He stepped forwards, also extending his hand.

"Whatever the reason," Kathryn spoke quickly before Fudge could, "I played as much of a part in our victory as Harry, and everyone else, and I believe it only fair that I am included in such meetings.

"A fair point," the Prime Minister conceded, "now, if we might continue, I must ask you how your victory came about?" he addressed the question to the whole room. "I was led to believe that this He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was effectively invulnerable."

"Well, it wasn't so much invincibility," Hermione immediately piped up, "simply layers of magical protection against death."

"So how is it that you have only recently managed to defeat him, if you knew that magic was protecting him?"

"Because we didn't know how he was doing it either." Ron replied dryly.

"The magic Voldemort was using is ancient and dark;" Hermione explained patiently, "the teaching of it is banned, as are books on the subject. It took on of the greatest wizards of our time years to figure out the puzzle."

"How did it work?"

"Well, to put it simply, when a person dies the soul is separated from the body and, well, passes on." Hermione again provided the explanation.

"And so he used magic to stop this?" the Prime Minister looked stunned. "How macabre!"

"In a manner of speaking," Harry finished the explanation, "the magic he used split his soul into seven, well, eight parts. As long as one survived he could not be killed and so we had only to find where he had hidden them."

"I assume that they were well hidden?"

"That is something of an understatement," Harry laughed slightly, "he could have hidden the pieces in anything he wanted, but as it happens he preferred a particular class of item."

"A particular class?"

"Something of magical significance." Harry clarified. "Something with history."

"I see," the Prime Minister nodded, "so how does one split your soul?" he asked. "Some potion or spell?"

"Unfortunately not." Hermione answered grimly.

"Oh."

"To split your soul you must kill." Kathryn finally spoke, her eyes flat and her voice deadly serious. "At least, that is the final process. The process prior to that final act is far too horrendous for me to even contemplate telling you."

"I see." He nodded a slightly stricken look on his face. "So you simply destroyed all of the pieces?"

"After a fashion, yes." Kathryn shrugged.

"And what does that mean?"

"My brother and I were also vessels for Voldemort's soul," Kathryn expounded, "created by accident when he first attempted to kill us nineteen years ago." The Prime Minister's face fell. "We had to willingly sacrifice ourselves in order to be successful."

"But then," he stared at them both goggle eyed, "how on earth are you still alive?"

"In willingly giving up our lives in order that others might survive, only the pieces of Voldemort's soul were destroyed." Harry continued the explanation. "We were unscathed and therefore able to return to fight."

"Well," the Prime Minister sighed finally after several moments of silence, "that is certainly the most extraordinary tale I have ever heard, and since assuming this post I can tell you I've hear more than my fair share of unbelievable stories."

"It must certainly have been a shock," Kathryn sympathised.

"Certainly, but that shock aside, I must commend you both on your courage. I believe there are few who could have faced such a fate and remained steadfast."

"Thank you." Harry acknowledged, Kathryn nodding her thanks also. "But no matter our sacrifices, we still lived to tell the tale. There are many others who were not so fortunate."

"Of course." He sighed, bowing his head slightly. "It is still, however, a pleasure to finally meet you. I have been told much over the past few weeks by Minister Fudge," he explained, "although my lack of knowledge as to your sister's existence leaves me feeling quite embarrassed."

"That doesn't surprise me." Lucius commented darkly from his position at Kathryn's shoulder.

"Might I be enlightened as to the reason?" he asked curiously.

"The reason stands before you." Fudge muttered darkly, glaring at the aristocratic blond.

"Excuse me?" he looked rather baffled.

"Mr. Malfoy," Fudge extrapolated, "is the very cause of her disgrace."

"Disgrace?" he raised his eyebrows. "I thought he was from your Ministry?" he once again wore his confused expression. "Or perhaps an adviser to Miss Potter?" Lucius could see how he could have come to such a conclusion, considering his position just behind Kathryn and the way her murmured in her ear every now and then.

"Far from it." Lucius commented, making his position quite clear by moving forwards and slipping and arm around Kathryn's waist. "Though I do offer my advice where it might be useful." Had the Prime Minister's eyebrows been able to go any further up they would've been on the back of his head.

"Mr. Malfoy," Fudge said tersely, "is technically under arrest."

"Arrest?" the Prime Minister spluttered. "Forgive me Minister, but it seems that your prison system has something of a failure."

"Well, he is supposed to be under house arrest for the weekend."

"He is still in my custody Fudge," Kathryn shot back, "I would've thought you'd prefer it if he didn't leave my sight."

"For what reason is he being detained?" the Prime Minister cut in, looking suddenly uncomfortable.

"His activities as a Death Eater." Fudge announced; his voice full of ill will. The Prime Minister jumped back about a foot.

"But weren't…aren't they what's his name's followers?"

"Yes," Fudge nodded, "at least, they were."

"And did you really have that mark on your skin," he asked Lucius directly, staring straight into his cool grey eyes, "the one people kept on passing off as fireworks?"

With a deft flick, Lucius undid his left cufflink and pulled up his jacket and sleeve; baring the slowly fading mark for all to see. The Prime Minister, although still quite wary, seemed to be quite entranced by the swirling shape of the snake that was still quite prominent, despite the passing of its creator.

"To cut a long story short," Fudge went on coldly, "Miss Potter's association, to use the polite term, with Mr. Malfoy has cost her a certain amount of respectability. Though her actions, along with her brother's, were undoubtedly heroic there are certain things that cannot be forgotten." This pronouncement, though impassioned, appeared quite at odds with what the Prime Minister saw. If anything, Miss Potter appeared to be someone who could not fail to command respect.

"Whatever you deem to be my crime, Fudge," Kathryn responded coldly, "it does not change the fact that I was there, no matter how much you seek to ostracise me."

"This is not the time-" Fudge began, only to be interrupted.

"Maybe the Prime Minister should also be made aware of the fact that Lucius risked his life by lying to Voldemort; telling him we were dead when we were not?" she reminded Fudge of the crucial role he had played.

"You did what?" that question was addressed straight at Lucius, no matter the hesitation the Prime Minister felt at his presence.

"The Dark Lord asked me to ascertain whether Miss Potter and her brother were alive. I lied."

"And saved our lives." Harry chipped in, casting a supportive glance at Lucius.

"Why?"

"Me." Kathryn replied simply.

"I had already watched her die once and it was not pleasant," Lucius elaborated, "surely that was reason enough."

"And so you and Miss Potter are, erm, involved then?" the Prime Minister asked enquiringly.

"Oh yes." Kathryn replied with the tiniest of smiles.

"For how long?"

"Over two years now."

"Two years!" he exclaimed. "But, that was well before hostilities had ended."

"Yes." Kathryn nodded succinctly.

"But, how could you have managed to keep it concealed?" he asked, flabbergasted. "Did you not have any inkling that something was going on?" this was directed straight at Harry.

"They hid it well," Harry shrugged, "he was a Death Eater, and married after all."

"Married?" the Prime Minister had to take a seat, gazing dumbfounded at Lucius.

"Up until January, yes." Lucius nodded, not giving the Prime Minister's reaction any notice.

"And you knew he was married?" he gave Kathryn a searching look. "And you had no objection to this?"

"Miss Potter had no choice." Lucius stepped in quickly to say the words that he knew Kathryn would find hard.

"No choice?"

"Our relationship did not start on the best of terms," Kathryn finally said, "and that is all you need to know. I suppose if you imagine the worst you'll be on the right track."

"Oh," his face fell, "I see."

"As it is, I am quite happy so you needn't worry." Kathryn dismissed his concerns and the topic of conversation. "And I am sure there are far more important things that we could be discussing."

"But, if he was a Death Eater, how can you trust him?" the Prime Minister seemed unwilling to let the subject go.

"He has given me proof, which is enough."

"Really?"

"Trust me, Prime Minister, I've made more impossible decisions in the past two years than you have your whole career." She replied assertively, her hand toying casually with the snake head of Lucius' cane. "He risked a great deal in lying to Voldemort, which anyone in our world with a modicum of sense should be able to comprehend." She glared pointedly at Fudge, her tone indicating that the subject was no longer up for discussion. "So, why was it that you wished to see us?" without waiting for an invitation, she pulled over one of the chairs from in front of his desk and took a seat. Lucius stood casually behind her, one hand resting lightly on her shoulder. The others followed suit, Hermione quickly charming a single chair into a small sofa that she, Harry and Ron could all fit on. The Prime Minister's eyes seemed to bulge slightly at the very blatant use of magic but he soon recovered his composure.

"Well, when I first took office, Minister Fudge only gave me a brief overview of how things stood." He explained, leaning casually against his desk. "When he came to me in July to tell me that it was over, he explained more of the history behind it and the part that you played in it." He addressed that part directly to Harry. "Of course, as you gathered, he did not mention Miss Potter's existence. Considering the obvious ramifications for our society had this Dark Lord been victorious, I felt it only right that I should meet you and offer my thanks on behalf of a country that will never know."

"Well, you're welcome," Harry shrugged, "but we weren't exactly rooting for him to win either."

"Of course. Forgive me, but I hadn't actually expected you to be so young. When Minister Fudge told me that this He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had tried to kill you as a child, well, children, I had expected that he meant when you were five or six."

"No," Harry shook his head, "we were only just one year old when he killed our parents."

"I see. So who raised you?"

"I was raised by my Aunt and Uncle," Harry explained, "my mother's sister and her husband."

"And are they wizards too?"

"No, and they did not take kindly to the whole concept so it was a rather miserable upbringing."

"Oh." His face fell. "And what of you, Miss Potter?"

"I was sent to live in France," she filled in the rest, "as Dumbledore thought it prudent to keep us separate."

"Whatever for?"

"Well, no one beyond our parents and their very close friends knew that our mother had given birth to twins, so keeping that secret was a means of keeping us safer. I returned to England when I was fifteen. It's quite funny actually," she mused, "because they literally had to rewrite the history books after I showed up!"

"I see," he turned his gaze to Ron and Hermione, "and what of your friends? Were they also party to this prophecy business?"

"Oh no," Hermione immediately shook her head, "our involvement was really just accidental."

"But bloody lucky!" Ron laughed, giving Hermione a playful knock on the shoulder. "They wouldn't have got far without you!"

"No, we wouldn't." Kathryn agreed. "But the same goes for you Ron."

"Well, it's my natural charisma you see," he replied dryly, "holds the whole outfit together."

"You might laugh Prime Minister," Kathryn commented as he chuckled slightly, "but without Hermione and Ron we would've probably been dead quite some time ago. Though it makes her blush, Hermione is probably the smartest witch of her age. As for Ron, he might make light of it, but he's braver than he thinks he is. Harry and I might have been the key to defeating Voldemort, but our friends were instrumental in ensuring our victory."

"So is everything sorted now?" he asked, casting another wary look in Lucius' direction. "Have all of his followers been rounded up?"

"Some of them." Fudge decided to comment on that front. "Many fled the battle when it became apparent that they were going to lose. We've been doing our best to track them but our resources are spread a little thin at the moment."

"Does that mean that people are still in danger," his brow furrowed, "my people I mean?"

"Not an immediate danger, no," Fudge shook his head, "they will want to keep a low profile, if they are indeed still in the country."

"I see."

"Do you have anything else you'd like to ask?" Kathryn raised her eyebrows questioningly.

"Naturally I have any number of questions about your world." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "But I imagine most of them are things I shall never know."

"We are governed by the International Statute of Secrecy, as I have told you before." Fudge explained. "There is a limit to what we can tell you."

"Of course."

"Is there anything else you want to ask us about what happened?" Hermione rephrased the question.

"You're sure he can't come back?"

"We're sure." Harry's response was final, and Kathryn nodded in a similarly serious fashion.

"No matter how powerful he became," Kathryn reflected, "once his defences were stripped away he was, at the end of it all, just a man and his death was as mundane as yours or mine."

"Well, it's a relief." He sighed. "I don't know how I would've managed if we'd had more of those accidents like the Millennium Bridge."

"I shouldn't think so," Fudge shook his head, "we've definitely rounded up all his trolls."

"Trolls?" the Prime Minister's jaw fell.

"Oh nothing you need to worry about," Fudge waved away his horrified expression, "all dealt with."

"Well," he glanced at the clock, his voice sounding a little shaky, "I'm afraid we'll have to finish things there, I have another meeting to attend."

"Of course."

"But thank you all again," he shook all of their hands, even Lucius', "it has been a pleasure to finally meet you all." Whilst everyone else headed for the door, Fudge moved in the direction of the fireplace.

"Miss Potter," he addressed Kathryn in a far sterner tone to the one he had been using, "I expect you at the Ministry in an hour." Without waiting for a response, he vanished in a whirl of green flame.

"What was that about?" the Prime Minister asked as he gathered some papers up from his desk.

"Oh probably just to give me a good scolding." Kathryn sighed, making to follow the others out of the door. "Not an unusual occurrence."

"Well, scolding aside, it has been a pleasure to meet you."

"It certainly has."

"Forgive me for saying it," he hesitated slightly, "but I get the feeling that this isn't the last I will see of you." Lucius could only smirk, knowing that the Prime Minister had also seen her potential for greatness.

"We shall see." Kathryn replied, smiling enigmatically before nodding her farewell and striding out of the door just as confidently as she had entered.


	93. Chapter 93

A/N - Hello! Sorry about the wait and my advance apologies for this chapter being a little on the short side, but with any luck I will make a decision on the outcome of Lucius' trial in the next week or so and I will be able to get on and write it. I'm really torn about what I want to do and it's so annoying because it stops me writing anything! Plus I have spent February being romanced my a rather lovely guy so forgive me for having been slightly distracted, but yay, things are looking up!

Also, another big YAY...you lovely readers have finally helped me break the 200 review mark...and the 100,000+ hits barrier, so a bit thanks to all of you readers, old and new, who have coped with my absences and short chapters but have left me lovely feedback too!

Anyway, hope you like this chapter and, if you do, please leave me a review to spur me on through this indecision!

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"That was impressive." Harry commented with a smile as they caught up.

"I think I made my point," Kathryn mused, "though I have a feeling Fudge wasn't too impressed."

"Well that was to be expected." Lucius shrugged. "If he'd invited you in the first place he would have saved himself the embarrassment."

"And he's obviously left you out of the version of events that he told the Prime Minister," Hermione added, "which is just wrong, no matter what he thinks of what happened."

"Hence my gate-crashing." Kathryn laughed slightly. "Though I get the feeling that I'm about to pay for it."

"How?" Ron asked, the three of them not having heard Fudge's final words to her.

"Fudge wants to see me at the Ministry in an hour," she explained, "probably to give me a dressing down, though personally I don't think he has a leg to stand on."

"Do you want us to come?" Harry asked.

"Oh its fine," she sighed, "it's nothing I can't handle."

"Well, if you're sure."

"Of course I am," they reached the front door, "do you want a lift home?"

"If you're offering."

"Well, I've got to stay in London so I might as well." With a quick word to the Ministry driver, Harry and the others climbed into the back of Lucius' car; sitting facing Kathryn and Lucius on the back seats.

"Grimmauld Place please." She said to the driver once he was back in his seat. Nodding silently, the car pulled smoothly away and headed back into the London traffic.

"Are you both going to go to the Ministry?" Hermione asked curiously.

"I don't think that would be wise." Kathryn shook her head. "I promised Fudge that I would keep this under the radar, so walking through the Atrium would probably break that promise."

"Would be funny to watch though." Ron chuckled.

"Well yes," Kathryn smirked, "but keeping it secret is best I think."

"Any particular reason?" Harry asked.

"Because it could be my trump card," she explained, "if things don't go my way I can use this against them. Maybe they haven't realised it, but the fact that they have repeatedly allowed Lucius to come home at the weekend could massively discredit any verdict they levy."

"Because how can they condemn a man to Azkaban when they have seen fit to allow him some freedom." Hermione quickly arrived at the crux of her argument.

"Indeed," Kathryn nodded, "if they thought Lucius was that dangerous they would have flatly refused my requests." She looked at Lucius somewhat apologetically. "Sorry, I didn't mean to talk about you as if you weren't here."

"Just so long as no one else hears you say so," he reassured her, "I wouldn't want people to think me some kind of tame little creature."

"Well I want saying that you were." Kathryn corrected herself.

"I should hope not," he smirked, "heaven forbid too many people should see behind my mask." Hermione shared a quick look with Harry and Ron at that statement, realising it somewhat confirmed the suspicious she had voiced the previous week.

When the car stopped in Grimmauld Place, Harry was surprised when Kathryn made to get out of the car too.

"You're coming in?" he asked, somewhat confused.

"Well, I thought I'd have a cup of tea before I head off to the Ministry, if that's alright?"

"Of course," he cast a glance at Lucius, "but what about Lucius?" Kathryn noted that he hadn't simply referred to him as 'Malfoy', and she appreciated how big a mental step that must have been for him.

"Oh you'll be alright heading back home, won't you?" she turned to Lucius, raising her eyebrows questioningly.

"Of course," he nodded, "I have a few matters that require my attention."

"I'll Floo back when I'm finished," she smiled, "I don't think I'll be too long."

"Don't give him an inch." He offered as a final piece of advice, kissing her swiftly.

"Never." She smirked, giving him a quick wink as she shut the door behind her.

They sat in the kitchen until the hour was almost up; telling everyone else what had gone on at the meeting. Sirius looked particularly proud when Harry explained how she had made her dramatic entrance, fully agreeing with her reasoning. He too offered to accompany her to the Ministry but, as she had done with Harry, she politely refused. Much as she appreciated their support, she knew that to make Fudge realise that she was a force to be reckoned with; she had to do things like this alone.

Transfiguring her stole into a cloak to protect her dress from the soot, she stepped into the fire at five to twelve; reappearing in the Atrium in a flash of green flame. Sliding the cloak from her shoulders, she squared her shoulders and strode confidently into the Atrium, letting the cloak trail dramatically along the floor behind her. She could feel the eyes of the Ministry staff, all heading out on their lunch breaks, following her as she made a bee-line for the golden elevators. Though tempted to smirk at the looks she received, she kept her face set in its cool, impenetrable mask. After all, she mused as the lift door rattled shut, why let her expression give it away when it was far more fun to people guessing about the reason for her visit to Fudge.

Percy wasn't as his desk when she entered the outer office but Fudge's door was waiting opened so she considered that her invitation.

"Well, I'm here," she declared as she strode through the doors, making Fudge visibly jump, "as ordered."

"If you would shut the door, Miss Potter." Fudge asked tersely, his eyebrows set in a scowl. Kathryn waved her wand obligingly, making sure they closed with an appropriate slam.

"There, now what was it you wanted to see me about?" Fudge paused a moment before answering.

"How dare you undermine me like that?" he told her coldly, his scowl deepening. "In front of the Muggle Prime Minister no less?"

"Actually, it was spectacularly easy." She replied coolly, her voice giving no hint of shame for what she had done.

"And how dare you bring him with you? I daren't consider what the Prime Minister must think now?"

"He will think that he has seen an excellent example of a person's ability to change." Kathryn shrugged.

"You cannot be serious?"

"Perfectly." She countered. "How dare you exclude me?" she continued, her voice harsh and cold. "How dare you even consider it?"

"You do not deserve to be recognised," he shot back acerbically, "not after what you have done."

"And what have I done?" she asked angrily. "What is my great crime?"

"Your betrayal is enough."

"And what evidence do you have, Fudge?" she raised her arms aloft in question. "Where have you found a single shred of evidence that says I betrayed my principles, my cause?"

"We have almost daily proof on that account."

"You have none!" she cried, rolling her eyes in exasperation. "The only proof you have is that I never told him a single thing, not one, no matter what he did to me!"

"You still chose to consort with him," Fudge reminded her, "you knew that there would be consequences."

"The last time I checked, being someone's lover was not a crime."

"No, but it can still be wrong." His scowl was still firmly set. "What was I supposed to say about you to the Prime Minister? Oh yes, there is another Potter but she disgraced herself by taking up with one of the Dark Lord's followers and she now persists in defending his crimes."

"I do not defend his crimes!" Kathryn roared, unbelievably incensed. "Do you think I don't know what he was capable of? That I do not know how lucky I am?"

"I think you live in your own world where Lucius Malfoy is concerned."

"I live in a world you cannot understand," she spat, vitriol flooding her tone, "and you never will. You are not possessed of adequate courage to understand why I did what I did and I don't believe you ever shall be."

"You willingly gave yourself over to a relationship with him when you could have walked away; there was nothing courageous about that."

"Funnily enough, I think you'll find that there are many that disagree with you on that count." At least, she hoped there were.

"Happily, it is my opinion that counts." He replied smugly.

"Whatever you think me guilty of," she tried her best to calm down, taking a deep breath, "that still gives you no right to exclude me. Did you think I wouldn't find out?" she asked. "Did you think Harry would be naïve enough to think that you would've invited me too?"

"What can I say," he shrugged nonchalantly, "I hoped."

"You deserved the embarrassment you got this morning." She saw no reason to pull her punches now, not after what had gone before. "And I won't deny that I took great pleasure in causing it."

"You looked like a child being petty." Fudge scoffed.

"I don't think so," Kathryn shook her head, "and you're a fool if you believe that."

"What did you gain by it, Miss Potter?" he questioned. "Did you think that meeting would have any effect on your situation?"

"Not at all," Kathryn shook her head, "but I thought the Prime Minister a prudent acquaintance to make."

"And what use to you could he possibly be as an acquaintance?" Fudge scoffed. "That meeting was merely a formality."

"Well, you never know what the future holds," she told him, gazing disinterestedly at her nails, "and your time will come, I have no doubt about that."

"Is that a threat?" he raised his eyebrows. "A challenge? Because if you do make such an attempt, I assure you, you will fail."

"Oh it's not a challenge," she sighed, "yet."

"Yet?"

"Well, after all, I'm only twenty. I think I should like to live my life a little before I go into politics."

"Indeed, I should think you are far too young to even consider such a move." Though he sounded calm, Kathryn could see a flash of fear in his eyes.

"I shall, however, be very happy to throw my weight and my, considerable, resources behind anyone worthy to pose such a challenge." She finished, staring him dead in the eyes so he knew that she wasn't bluffing.

"You think that anyone else who assumes this office would see your situation differently?"

"Oh I could think of several," she smirked, "but anything has to be better than you."

"Well don't count on such a thing happening before Monday." He asserted smugly. "For you deserve to be taught a harsh lesson about justice, and with any luck I shall be able to deliver it."

"Well, I'm sure you'll try your best," she sighed. "If that is all, I think I'll be going now."

"I'd say this meeting is over, yes."

"Very well." She turned and headed towards the door. "But you were foolish to make an enemy of me Fudge," she cast a glance back over her shoulder, "when I could've been your greatest ally."

Her face was no doubt quite easy to read as she strode back through the Atrium and people wisely steered clear. Throwing the cloak around her shoulders, she Flooed back to Grimmauld Place but didn't stop for conversation before stepping right back into the fire and returning to Malfoy Manor.

"That man!" she exclaimed as she stepped out of the fireplace in the drawing room.

"It went that well, did it?" Lucius asked wryly from where he was sat reading the paper.

"Oh fantastic," she drawled, returning her stole to normal and draping it over the back of a chair, "he really does have a way with words."

"So he was using his choicest vocabulary then?"

"Oh yes," she flopped down next to him, slipping her feet out of her shoes, "it's quite pathetic really, when you consider it."

"Well, for a grown man to allow himself to be intimidated by someone so young, it's really quite laughable."

"I think I can safely say that, if he was maybe a little annoyed at me before, he is definitely furious now."

"What did you say that was that bad?"

"Well I made it clear that I would support anyone that wanted to challenge his leadership."

"I see."

"It's bound to happen sooner or later and I can only hope that it's sooner."

"Yes, well, he was quite crystal clear when he intimated that he was going to do his best to have you sent to Azkaban."

"Well that's hardly a surprise."

"I know," she sighed, "but it was just the way he said it."

"How do you mean?"

"Oh he was all holier than thou," she explained, "like he was Barty Crouch all over again. He seemed to think that it was only his vote that counted with the Wizengamot."

"Thankfully it doesn't."

"I thought reminding him of that would be a step too far, but maybe it wasn't."

"Well, that aside, I assume you've made up with Sirius?" he asked, assuming that her visit to Grimmauld Place had been a welcome one.

"Yeah," she sighed, "I went to see him after Draco's trial."

"How did he handle your showing up?"

"Well obviously not too badly, seeing as I'm still here and not in St Mungo's with spell damage. He was shocked I think, but we went for a walk and we talked things out."

"You mean you actually talked him round?"

"Not exactly," she shrugged, "but he's willing to be more open minded."

"Open minded is a start."

"That's what I thought," she nodded, "and it's all rather taxing to be angry with him when you consider everything else I have to deal with!"

"Always the pragmatist." He chuckled, pulling her closer.

"Well in these situations I think it helps." She shrugged. "If things go sour I don't want to have to deal with the Prophet trying to exaggerate any tension between Sirius and I as well as anything else they decide to throw at me."

"Definitely not."

"Anyway," she waved away these concerns, not really wanting to dwell on them, "have you had any lunch?"

"No," he shook his head, but I did ask the house elves to put together a basket for us, seeing as it's nice I thought we could eat in the garden."

"Oh that would be nice," she sighed, leaning into him, "especially after this morning. I'll just go and change," the pulled at the hem of her dress, "as this is hardly appropriate, unless this is going to be some kind of glamorous picnic!" Lucius merely chuckled at her as she sprang off the sofa, shoes in hand, and practically bounded out the door to change. Sitting there, he could not help but feel incredibly lucky. Having been brought up to consider his fortune and status in society as a mere birth right, he had never been in possession of anything that had made him feel the way he did when she looked his way.


	94. Chapter 94

A/N - And again I must begin with apologies for not updating sooner...I will blame a certain person for keeping me distracted for three months...but he is lovely so please forgive him! But, in other good news I HAVE FINALLY MADE UP MY MIND! So here is the verdict...now I just have to write the aftermath...

Enjoy xx

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"Oh what to wear." She sighed on Monday morning, standing before her wardrobe with a grimace across her face.

"Whatever you want," he smiled as he picked out a shirt, "whatever you're comfortable with."

"Well, I do like this one," she held up a chic black velvet dress that she had bought the other day, "but it's black," she sighed again, "and I feel like I'm always looking like I'm off to a funeral."

"Well then wear something colourful." He shrugged.

"But I don't want to look like I expect anything."

"Then wear black."

"Oh that is not helpful!" she scolded him with a wry smile, knowing that he was only trying to wind her up. Returning the black dress to the wardrobe, she riffled through for something appropriate.

"How about this?" she asked, turning around to show him her next choice.

"Perfect."

"Oh you'd say that about anything." She shook her head, slipping the dress over her head.

"That's because you look good in anything." He told her simply as she picked out shoes. "Here," he handed her the string of rubies that he had given her early on in their relationship, "they should go perfectly."

"Stop saying perfect," she scolded him, stepping into her shoes, "it's unnerving."

"As you wish." He smirked, handing her the matching earrings.

"Well I'm not," she continued on, finding her favourite black fur stole, "the perfect Kathryn Potter would not be standing here today."

"What do you mean?"

"The perfect Kathryn Potter wouldn't have allowed herself to fall so spectacularly in the first place," she sighed, "and wouldn't have let herself get caught because she wouldn't have done something so foolhardy."

"Well then I'm glad that you are so gloriously imperfect," he corrected himself, "and I would not have you any other way."

"Oh stop it," she scolded again, raising her eyebrows, "you know you're becoming far too mushy for my taste."

"Apologies," he smirked, "it won't happen again."

The journey into London was a quiet one. Neither of them was willing to discuss what was potentially to come and so they settled for sitting in a companionable silence as the fields and towns sped by the windows. Scrimgeour was waiting in the alleyway and, after a fleeting kiss on the cheek, Lucius departed without a word. Taking a minute to compose herself, she stepped into the phone box and prepared to run the gauntlet one last time.

As she expected, the photographers were out in force and practically pounced on her as she stepped out on to the polished wooden floor of the Atrium. In between the blinding flashes she saw many familiar faces; all of them here to see what the Wizengamot's verdict would be. She stopped for no one, walking down the stairs to the courtrooms to avoid the crush in the gilded elevators. She was given a wide berth as she arrived on level ten, despite the crowd filling the corridor leading to the courtroom. She spotted Harry and the others keeping her a seat on one of the benches nearest the Wizengamot and the chair in which Lucius would be sitting.

Harry watched as she approached, hardly surprised at how easily she wore her different masks. Gone was the somewhat playful young woman that had been at the meeting with the Prime Minister; she had been replaced by an all-together more serious persona.

Like it had been on Saturday, her dress was red, though this one was a grown-up affair of blood red velvet. The neckline was slashed across her shoulders whilst the sleeves stopped at her elbow; drawing attention to her slender forearms and the heavy ruby bracelet that dangled elegantly from one wrist. A thin, twice looped black leather belt cinched the dress in at her waist before it tapered away at her knees. Her string of dark rubies sat comfortably around her neck and matching earrings twinkled against her dark hair, completing what could certainly be called a true Gryffindor outfit.

"Morning." She said coolly, sinking down into the space next to Harry.

"Nervous?" Harry asked immediately, raising his eyebrows slightly.

"Oh just slightly." She drawled sarcastically in reply, shifting anxiously in her seat.

"How's he feeling?" Hermione asked curiously.

"He doesn't really say," Kathryn sighed, noting how much Hermione's feelings towards Lucius must have changed given that she was actually enquiring after his wellbeing, "I think he's just been trying to keep it out of his mind."

"But you had a nice weekend?"

"Yeah," she smiled, "trying to savour the moment ever so slightly, you know, just in case."

"Do you think it will be the case?"

"Who knows?" she shrugged gloomily. "If Fudge has his way, then certainly, but there's the rest of the Wizengamot to consider."

"Well, at least you can say that you fought your corner and you fought it well." Sirius chipped in from his seat behind Harry. "You at least gave them plenty to consider."

"Oh yes, but who knows if it will be enough?" she raised her eyebrows ominously as the clock chimed the hour and Lucius was escorted in through the main doors. His eyes quickly found hers as the Wizengamot made their entrance, and she could tell that he was doing his best to look hopeful so as not to make her feel disheartened. Looking across to Fudge, however, her heart could not help but sink as she saw the smug flash of satisfaction in his eyes. Fudge cleared his throat and the courtroom fell silent in anticipation.

"Lucius Malfoy," he addressed him directly, "the Wizengamot has deliberated your case and a verdict has been reached." Kathryn held her breath, waiting for the blow to fall. "Before delivering that verdict, however, the Wizengamot wishes to make a statement as to the conduct of Miss Kathryn Potter over the past two years."

"I knew they'd do something like this." Kathryn hissed in Harry's ear. "They can't send me to Azkaban but they can definitely denounce me to anyone that will listen."

"The Wizengamot acknowledges and thanks you for your cooperation," Fudge began, though he didn't look as if he particularly agreed, "and recognises the emotional difficulty that you must have faced when explaining to this court what passed between yourself and Mr. Malfoy." There were several nods of agreement from other members of the Wizengamot particularly the women. "The depth of information you provided has been extremely useful to the Wizengamot during its deliberation on this case. The circumstances you found yourself in were regrettable and the Wizengamot recognises that you acted to ensure your survival. Despite that, however, the court does not look upon all of your actions with a forgiving eye."

"You don't say." Kathryn murmured dryly.

"You have made no secret of your decision to hide the affair from your friends and, when considering that such a revelation could have given the Dark Lord's opposition vital intelligence, such action can in no way be condoned. It also means that you placed yourself willingly into extreme danger if details of your relationship had been discovered by the wrong people." Kathryn knew that every pair of eyes in the room was fixed upon her but she kept her face impassive despite whatever emotion she felt.

"Of course, Miss Potter has not been on trial for her actions, the Wizengamot and the Ministry simply wish to express an official opinion on the subject." Fudge continued.

"They might as well have put you on trial." Kathryn heard Hermione grumble under her breath.

"It is a shame to see someone so promising tarred with the brush of scandal, but you do not seem to feel the concern for your reputations that other so." Kathryn merely rolled her eyes in boredom, making it clear that she had little time for anything Fudge had to say. "One can only hope that your future choices will be taken with more thought." Kathryn resisted the temptation to challenge his right to lecture her on what was and was not a good choice. She kept silent, however; wishing to retain the moral high ground in this particular confrontation. Fudge cleared his throat to continue.

"Let us now, however, continue with the matter at hand." he shuffled the papers before him into a neat stack. "Lucius Malfoy, you were brought here to answer the charge of being a Death Eater and willingly participating in crimes perpetrated by the aforementioned group. In deference to the wishes of Miss Potter," Fudge said this part through gritted teeth, indicating that this wasn't his particular desire, "the Wizengamot chooses to disregard the evidence she gave in relation to her kidnap and torture as it is apparent that she seeks no retribution." Kathryn let the tiniest of smiles slip across her face; thankful that at least some of the Wizengamot seemed to have brains.

"The charge of being a Death Eater, however, still stands." Fudge went on, raising his voice over the furtive whispers that had broken out at the last announcement. "And on that count, the Wizengamot has no alternative but to find you guilty."


End file.
